Through Night and Chaos
by abuchild
Summary: Carter Augustine spent all of her teenage years in hell, pulled out at 19 by Castiel. She quickly learns that she wasn't saved for second chance. She realizes she has an important role to play in the coming apocalypse and the lives of the Winchesters.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is just another story that I'm working on and posting on Quizilla, but I just kind of get the feeling that it will be more appreciated here. I have up to chapter 21 written out so updates will be, hopefully, once a day. Usually I start to slack when I have to write up another chapter.**

**And just as a forewarning it's rated M for language and adult themes, this is Supernatural based after all ^_^**

**::Prologue::**

Her heart throbbed in her chest, and she could hear the blood pumping in her ears as she sprinted across Central Park with unyielding determination. The night in which the young woman ran was quiet and still.

The woman had been at Slim's Irish Pub with her brother when the fluorescent lights dangerously flickered. The pub door crashed open, fog curling in from vacant streets. A man, dressed in a simple beige trench coat, broke up the fog and gazed unwaveringly around at the startled bar goers. Castiel, an angel of the Lord, brought them to the flat above the bar. He told them they were here, they referring to the people Todd and Carter had been searching for for months. As the words left Cas' mouth, she was on her way out of the pub. Something was wrong.

Drawing near Belvedere Castle, her pace slowed as she tried controlling her breathing. The sound of a struggle was near as Carter inched to the top of the hill. Instinct told her "flight" at the sight of the sparring sturdy men, but she knew otherwise. Odors of hellish familiarity engulfed her nostrils, telling her Alastair was the man who was swiftly gaining the upper hand in the fight. All too comfortable in the face of evil, Carter sprang from her position in the hedges to the aide of the poor soul being attacked by the great torturer of Hell.

"Alastair!" She hollered, blocking the injured man from the demon's next blow.

A high-level demon, Alastair, he always managed to posses the most intimidating hosts. Carter elbowed the host in the face, snatched up the man's hand, and dashed away down the hill. Alastair's looming presence forced the two off their feet and sent them tumbling down into one of the embedded streets of the park. Her head cracked against damp pavement and the weight of the man collapsed upon her chest. Groaning, she heaved the man off of her and sat up rubbing the back of her head. In a similar fashion, the man massaged his head and leaned against the wall of earth.

"Thanks for that."

In the light of the moon, Carter could make out the man's chiseled features. His pointed nose and chin complemented his high-cheekbones just as his strong set jaw matched his fixed round mouth. But it was his eyes that held her captivated, those hazel-green eyes. They reflected everything he had seen but should never have, everything that she, too, had seen.

"You're Dean, aren't you? Dean Winchester," she guessed and his face contorted into a look of astonishment.

Her question was interrupted from the call of a concerned brother.

"Carter!" his voice echoed from above.

"Down here! We're down here!" she chanted back. Dry leaves and twigs cracked not far from where they were and several faces soon appeared.

"Dean!" a worried but relieved voice shouted. A tall man around Todd's age slid down the embankment and helped Dean to his feet. Todd soon followed with Castiel and brought his sister up, brushing the dirt off her body. Sam, who was the tall man, turned to the other pair of siblings.

"Dean, this is Todd Augustine. Cas showed up at the room with him and said we needed to meet. Where did you go? I came out of the shower and you were gone," Sam wondered.

Carter eyed up the younger Winchester with a sense of uneasiness. He didn't seem right.

"I got hungry so I went out for food," Dean grumbled.

"How did you end up in Central Park?" Sam asked.

"It was Alastair, he uh got the jump on me, but she came," he explained indicating to Carter and adding "What was your name?"

"Carter Augustine. I'm his sister," she said, jerking her head in the direction of Todd.

"Now that we are all acquainted, I suggest we take this meeting indoors," Castiel interrupted.

The boys led the motley crew back to where they were staying, a ghastly building that struck Carter as a No-Tell Motel at first glance.

_I wouldn't be surprised if it was such a structure._ She thought.

As they walked to room 113, the quintet passed a lurid, black, classic car. Todd was riveted to the spot and admired the "great American beauty," as he put it. Dean halted to a stop, beaming brightly. Rolling her eyes, Carter followed Sam and Cas into the motel room leaving the motor-heads to their obsession. Cas and Carter took seats at a small table near the door as Sam disappeared in the kitchenette.

The angel curiously watched the girl drum her slender fingers on the worn wooden table.

"You're injured," he flatly pointed out.

"What?" she said only to realize the warm sensation above her eye. Blood wet her fingertips as she pressed them against her forehead just above her right eye.

"Oh, it must've been when I hit the asphalt," she noted, pulling her sleeve over her hand and applying pressure to the cut.

"Let me fix it."

"No, it's ok. I don't need any angelic assistance, I can heal the old fashion way," Carter replied with a little smirk.

Had Castiel been bestowed with human emotion, his face would've read with concern. Despite his emotionless expression, however, Carter knew Castiel was an angel filled with silent doubt and questions.

_If he ever fell from grace_, Carter often considered_, he would make it his life to protect me_.

Sam returned minutes later, two beers in his hand.

"Carter?" he asked, holding one out to her. She held up her hand as Todd and Dean walked in from the car.

"No thanks, I don't drink," Carter politely declined.

Dean raised his eyebrows, taking the beer from his brother.

"You don't drink?" he incredulously asked, twisting the top off the bottle. She smirked and peered down at her shoes.

"Let me rephrase. I can't drink. I'm only nineteen," she clarified.

"Coulda fooled me," Dean shrugged.

For the second time that night, Carter rolled her eyes at the elder Winchester and wandered into the bathroom.

"So, Cas, now that we've found the Winchester's, are you going to explain why it was of 'such great importance?'" she implored, washing off her eye.

Castiel stood as she emerged from the bathroom with a washcloth over her eye. He gazed at her for a moment and Carter could feel the questionable stares from Sam and Dean. Clearing her throat, she disrupted the awkward moment.

"Do you guys have any bandages?" she asked, showing them the bloody cut above her eye. Sam readily rummaged through a small bag as Dean indifferently took a swig of his beer. For a second, she narrowed her eyes at him and gladly thanked Sam. Todd took the bandage from Sam and placed it on the small abrasion.

"It is of great importance..." Carter smirked to herself as Cas began, "...that you remain together now. Protect each other, that is all I can tell you at the present," he instructed.

In a customary Castiel manner, the angel left the four humans angrily confused.

"I hate to break it to you two but my brother and I work alone. So it's best you just vamoose," Dean rudely proclaimed under his brother's critical stare.

"We're supposed to stay together," Carter countered, folding her arms across her chest.

"I kinda have to agree with him, Carter. We're better off without them...no offense," he quickly added.

"Look, I'd much rather hunt with just you but we've got our orders. I know it doesn't mean much to _you_," she told her brother with scorn, "but Castiel told us to protect the Winchesters."

"Well if Castiel says so then we have to do it," Dean quipped, taking another swig of his beer.

"You might want to show a little more respect, Dean, Castiel is an angel," Carter hotly said.

Just as hotly, Dean slammed his bottle on the nightstand and stood.

"Angels are dicks, they don't deserve any respect," he remarked.

"You must've met Uriel," she observed.

"Sam and I are fine. We don't need any protection from a little girl and it sounds like you're better off without us. I don't know what that little angel crush has put in your head but we don't need you," Dean said.

Carter angrily pursed her lips and unfolded her arms.

"Little girl, huh?" she repeated rounding on Dean.

"Carter..." warned Todd. Ignoring her brother's word of caution, Carter tightly gripped Dean's shirt.

"I've seen more than you could possibly conjure up in your worst nightmare," she spat.

"I seriously doubt that," Dean retorted, his eyes narrowed.

Carter shoved him away from her, "That includes what you saw in your brief sojourn in Hell."

Sam's face wrought with surprise, and Dean's still played a sneer.

"Did Castiel tell you that?" Dean mocked once again.

"I don't need this from you," responded Carter, turning on her heel, "Come on, Todd."

Before slamming the door on the Winchester's, Carter flicked her cell number at Dean, "If you ever grow a pair and ask for help..."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: In this chapter we learn a little about Carter's past and it's bad, so just a little warning. There's nothing explicit so don't worry.**

**::Chapter 1::**

_6:00 AM, good Lord why do I do this to myself?_ Carter pondered, glancing at the clock that was flashing the absurd time.

The young girl meandered out of bed and got ready for the surprises this day would hold for her. Little did she know, those surprises would include a call from the Winchesters, who Todd and Carter had left over three months ago and hadn't heard from since.

Fully knowing that Todd wouldn't be up for at least another two hours, Carter grabbed her lap top and took the car to the Uptown Café about half a mile away. At the café, Carter ran over the case in her head. Even as she did, she couldn't help but feel some regret about taking the case. Todd had gotten a call from Bobby Singer a couple days ago talking about a town where people haven't been dying for a couple weeks. Todd was all gung-ho about the case, but Carter had reservations.

_People aren't dying, I don't get why that's such a bad thing_, she thought, sipping a drink of the coffee she ordered.

Yesterday, the siblings talked to wife of a cancer patient, who was clinically dead and now miraculously is taking the kids to school. Thinking maybe the woman was dabbling in some black magic, Todd searched the house while Carter questioned the wife about any strange people she may have met. Todd had returned from the 'bathroom' with a blank and Carter had discovered nothing. She was hoping it may really be miracles but when does demon hunting reveal an honest-to-God miracle?

"Could I get another coffee?" she asked the waitress.

"Sure hunnie, can I get you anything else?"

Carter politely shook her head and called up the Greybull Standard Newspaper on her screen. Slightly amused at the picture of a bison in the left hand corner, Carter bypassed to the Obits. Just as she and Todd had been informed, only six people were listed and most of them were listed in the previous month. The last person to have died was a boy by the name of Cole Griffith, who died from an asthma attack in his own home. Carter's heart went out to the family as she poured cream and sugar in her new cup of coffee.

"Oh I don't believe it," a brogue voice uttered.

Carter hung her head in disbelief and flashed the man with a fake smile.

"Dean! And to what do I owe the displeasure of seeing you here?" she sneered, words dripping with sarcasm.

Dean chuckled and sat next to her at the counter, ordering coffee as well.

"I just came for an early morning coffee," he played, a smug smirk stretching his lips.

Carter wrinkled her nose in disgust as Dean took a drink of the black coffee the waitress just handed him.

"I'm assuming you and Todd are here on the same case Sam and I are working on," he surmised.

"Don't ever assume," she said, slightly closing her laptop, making Dean eye her up.

"Well Sam and I have it under control so you and your brother should probably just leave. You might get in our way," he advised.

At that moment, Carter resisted a strong urge to throw her coffee in his face and burn that obnoxious little smirk away.

"Go to Hell, Dean," she hissed.

"Been there, done that."

"Fine, then go away. I was here first," she childishly claimed.

"Look, as much as I don't like working with a child like you, maybe we should help each other out," he suggested.

"No," Carter flatly responded.

"Why not?" he asked, a tinge of pleading in his voice.

"Not five minutes ago you just said you and Sam 'have it under control,'" she scoffed.

Dean gripped his cup, resisting the same urge that Carter had moments ago. Reluctantly, Carter opened up her laptop to the obituary of Cole Griffith. Dean, still thoroughly annoyed, glanced at her then scooted closer to see the laptop screen.

"This is the last person to die. Asthma attack," Carter revealed sadness lingering.

"Sam and I talked to this Jim guy yesterday. He was shot point blank in the heart. He says it was a miracle," Dean told her, his mood softening.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

"We asked him if he had seen anything close to a demon and he denied it."

"Yeah. We talked to a cancer patient's wife. The dude was clinically dead and now they're getting ready to celebrate their anniversary. We thought maybe she was dabbling in some black magic but Todd searched the house but nothing," Carter solemnly explained, closing her laptop.

Dean finished his coffee.

"Maybe it is miracles," he proposed.

"That's what I said but why two old men and not the boy? Not to be cynical but the boy had a lot more life to live then the other two men did. If a miracle would happen why wouldn't it happen to the boy?" Carter answered, finishing off her own coffee.

She turned and checked the clock above the door.

_8:30, Todd should be up by now_, she thought putting her laptop away.

"Where are you staying?" she asked.

"Whoa, it's only eight in the morning. Shouldn't we wait until later to go back to my place?" he insinuated with a smirk.

Carter replied with a cold glare, making Dean roll his eyes and mutter, "Prude."

"What was that?" she barked, catching wind of the word.

"Greybull. As in the Greybull Motel?" Dean recovered, providing her with the name of the motel he and Sam were staying at. Carter suspiciously eyed him up before standing to leave.

"That's where we are. Todd and I are in room one-eleven. Meet us there at 9:30," she instructed, walking back to her blue Durango.

**- x -**

"You'll never guess who's here!" Carter voiced to her brother, who was showering in the bathroom.

The sound of running water echoed in the room and clunked to a stop with the turn of a metal handle controlling internal plumbing.

"Yeah? Who's that?" Todd replied, emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"The Winchesters," she grunted.

"The Winchesters?" he asked, as if he didn't hear correctly.

"Did I stutter?" she teased.

He threw her a stern look, disappearing back into the bathroom forcing Carter to yell whenever she said something.

"We're going to work on the case together! I met Dean at the café!" she shouted.

Todd appeared out of the bathroom again, this time with shaving cream coating his face.

"Dean? You and Dean had a civil conversation?" he smiled.

"Kind of."

Shaking his head, Todd went back to his mirror.

"Anyway, they're going to meet us in about an hour so hurry up!"

"I'd rather _not_ cut myself, thank you!"

"Todd, you spend more time in the mirror than I do," she taunted, stepping by the bathroom door.

He turned to her with a leer and slammed the door in her face. About an hour later, Carter begrudgingly let the Winchester brothers into the room. Sam shook Todd's hand as Dean and Carter briefly glared at each other. Brightly, Dean greeted Todd and Sam and Carter sat together on one of the beds.

"So we all agree that it's not just miracles going on here, right?" Sam started off. Everyone nodded.

"Does anyone else have any plausible ideas?" Carter put out.

"Plausible? Anything we say isn't going to be plausible by normal standards," Dean challenged.

"We aren't exactly normal, now are we?" replied Carter, teeth clenched.

"Well, you aren't maybe," Dean smirked.

Sam shot him a hard look breaking up the bubbling fight.

"Well Carter and I were talking before you guys got here and what if these people are dying but there's nobody to take them away?"

"Like reapers?" Dean reiterated.

Sam shrugged, "It makes sense. If death's not in town, nobody's dying."

"I don't know, Sam," Dean pressed.

"Well, let's talk to somebody who might," he suggested.

"Well last time I checked Huggy-Bear isn't available," Dean criticized.

Carter narrowed her eyes and her mouth slightly hung open, "He means the kid, smartass."

"The kid? The kid is a doornail," he bluntly reminded us.

"Yes, thank you, Dean, but that's the point."

"Yeah he's the last person to actually die around here," Todd continued.

"And maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him," Sam finished.

Dean scoffed, "I love how matter-of-fact you are about that. Strange lives..."

Carter rolled her eyes.

"If we're going to do this, we'll have to get some things from the store. Unless you guys have materials for a séance?" Sam asked, hopeful.

Todd and Carter shook their heads.

"Ok, then I guess I'll run," Sam volunteered.

"I'll go with you," Carter chimed, standing up with him, "And you two can find out where the boy buried and check cemetery hours."

"Of course you want to go to the store," Dean egged on.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"Of course the _girl_ would rather pick to go shopping than search out a cemetery. The little ghostie might scare her," he snickered.

Carter threw up her arms in defeat, letting out a low growl as she slammed the door shut behind her.

"Dean, you might want to ease up on her," Sam sighed, pulling on his jacket and following Carter out the door.

"Do you want to drive, or should I?" Sam asked outside.

"Well if I drive, we take the Durango. But if you drive, you'll be taking the Impala..." she considered, watching the smile on Sam's face grow.

"I'll drive," Sam decided, getting in the driver's side of the black car. Sam and Carter drove a short ways down the road to a small grocery store to gather their supplies.

"So," Sam started grabbing a basket from the front of the store, "how did you and your brother get caught up in hunting?"

"Run's in the family," she shortly answered.

"Same with us."

"Do we need salt?" Carter asked, picking up a container.

"Could always use more salt," Sam resolved, putting it in the basket.

Going to the store with Sam allowed Carter the opportunity to indulge in the uneasiness he gave off and figure out why, he was a nice guy.

She looked at him, feeling bad for blowing off his question.

"My family wasn't exactly the Brady's. My mom was the big-time hunter and got me and Todd into it when we were really young. I was only three when I saw my first ghost. My dad..." she hesitated.

"He didn't know?" Sam tried to finish, stopping in the middle of the isle.

"No, he knew. He had tried it out with my mom before I was born but couldn't handle it. When he saw that his kids were fighting baddies and he couldn't...he was more pissed at us than my mom. He really loved her, my mom. It killed him when she was away for months at a time," she continued.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. Like I said before, he was pissed at us. Whenever she was gone he took his anger out on us. Well, me... Todd was his prodigy. I told my mom but she disregarded it. So Todd and my mom ignored what my dad was doing for years."

"What happened?"

Her eyes flicked up and him and gave him a weak smile before continuing on down the isle.

"You would think badly of me if I told you," she confessed, holding out her hand for Sam. The younger Winchester studied the girl with curiosity and grabbed hold of her small, slender hand.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

Carter's dark blue eyes searched his, sensing that he was keeping his own secrets.

"My dad was no saint. In fact, if I didn't know he was human I would say he was a demon," she chided, a look of hatred darkening her features.

"What-" Sam started but quieted after seeing that she was going to continue. She slightly lifted up her shirt and jacket to expose a large pearly scar on her lower back.

"Ten years later and it's as visible as it was back then," she lamented.

"I'm sure if he didn't-" he was cut off.

"Didn't drink that he wouldn't have beaten me? Maybe, but there were the times when Todd destroyed all the liquor and still had to listen to my screams and my father's groans of pleasure," she voiced, unable to look at Sam's face contorted with shock and disgust.

Eyes glistening with tears, she looked up at him.

"I made a deal for four years when I was ten, he's dead. Rotting in Hell for what he did," she divulged.

Sam gazed at the poor girl with extreme sorrow that only Sam's face could hold. Carter briskly wiped away the corners of her eyes and regained her composure.

"Anyway, I don't regret what I did. The bastard deserved what he got," she determined.

"Well, how did you get out of it?" Sam wondered, the question burning inside him.

"What do you mean?" Carter asked, thoroughly confused.

"The deal? How did you break the contract? I mean, you're still here."

Carter stopped him and looked him in the eye.

"I died when I was fourteen."

The look on Sam's face was written with more shock than when he saw his own brother had returned from Hell.


	3. Chapter 2

**::2::**

"You can't tell them! Especially Todd," Carter pleaded with Sam as he briskly walked to the car.

"He doesn't know?" he whipped around.

"He knows I died but he doesn't know about the deal. We never got along! He let my father do those things to me," she stammered.

"But you loved him enough to keep him out of the deal," Sam derided with scorn.

"My father was a perverted asshole! Todd was only obeying his orders. Please Sam, you can't. I know there are things you wouldn't dare tell your brother," she protested.

He stared at her, a wave of panic sweeping his face.

"What do you know?" he asked barely audible.

"Nothing for certain, but when I met you for the first time I sensed something uneasy about you, something within. And now I know what it was I sensed," she explained.

Sam was purposely avoiding her eye.

"The demon in you is giving off a stronger vibe than it was before, Sam," she asserted.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Five years in Hell, ten years to the month, you learn things," she said, her face darkening, "For example, I can tell you that the woman walking up behind me is a demon."

Carter deftly spun around, pointing her previously concealed weapon in the face of a brown-haired woman, who was, in fact, Sam's demon squeeze Ruby. Ruby's eyes turned charcoal but Carter didn't need to see her eyes to see that she was a demon.

"You stink of Hell," Carter growled.

The demon smirked, rolling her eyes back to normal.

"If you know I'm a demon then you know you can't kill me with that gun," she criticized.

"Look again," Carter ordered with a wide smirk, "Like I said, you learn things in Hell."

Ruby's smug smirk faded to a scowl as she saw the markings on Carter's 9mm S&W and looked to Sam.

"I came to see how you were doing, Sam, but by the looks of it you're doing just fine," Ruby commented, eyeballing the hunter in front of her.

"I figured you two knew each other," Carter sneered, lowering her arm and hiding her weapon once again.

"We're hunting Lilith," Sam said.

"I am so sick of hearing about that bitch!" Carter exclaimed.

"Good, then we all have a common purpose," the demon settled.

"Sorry, Hell-spawn, but my orders come from a higher power and nowhere did it say that I am to track the bitch down, as much as I would like to," she told her, feigning a smile.

"So you've got a little angel on your shoulder, too," Ruby noted, narrowing her eyes.

Carter stared at her before turning to Sam, "I'll be in the car."

Sam returned five minutes later, not knowing what to say.

"I'm not going to tell," Carter acquiesced, her eyes closed underneath her shades and her legs perched upon the dash.

"If I don't tell your secret?" Sam guessed.

"No. I just won't tell for a few reasons. One. It's between you and your brother, I have no interest in getting into your business. Two. I can barely stand being in the same room as him much less talk to him. And three. We're in a war, a big jacked up war. Hunter's need to stick together in times like these and I don't need both Winchester's irked with me," she said, removing her sunglasses.

He sighed and the Impala started up with a rumbling roar.

"You know what's going to happen when they find out, don't you?"

"Sure, but we should keep what's left of our families together," Carter replied knowing what Sam was referring to.

Just as Sam had started backing the car out, his phone rang. Carter answered it for him fully realizing that Dean was on the other line.

"Hi, Dean," she greeted in a sarcastically cheery voice.

_"Carter? What are you doing with Sam's phone?"_ he quizzically asked.

"I don't know," she feigned.

"_Put Sam on,"_ he barked in the phone.

"Sam's busy at the moment, can I take a message?"

_"Where is he?"_ Dean griped, clearly losing his patience.

"Don't get your boxers in a bundle, he's driving. Now what do you want?"

Sam had listened, thoroughly amused.

_"The boy is buried at Greybull Cemetery. The grounds close at five but we should wait until it's dark."_

"What's he saying?" Sam asked from the driver's seat.

"They found where the kid was buried. Greybull Cemetery. Good job, Dean, you didn't manage to screw up like I thought you would," she praised.

_"Bite me,"_ he murmured.

"Sorry, I don't eat trash," she apologized hanging up on him.

Sam and Carter drove back to the motel where they held up in the Winchester's room until Dean and Todd returned an hour later.

"What's security like?" Sam questioned, tossing Dean and Todd beers. Dean caught his and stared at Carter, who was sprawled out on his bed reading a magazine that came from a large pile sitting beside her.

"What's _that_ doing on my bed?" he angrily asked.

The magazine hiding Carter's face flopped down on her chest as she glanced at the pile of magazines.

"Why, Dean, those are magazines. You read them...well, _you_ don't because your tiny brain wouldn't comprehend all those big words," she leered.

"Not the magazines...the _thing_ pretending to be girl," he elucidated.

With a glare, Carter disappeared behind the magazine once again.

"Enough, Dean, what's going on with the cemetery?" Sam asked.

"We're switching beds tonight," he proclaimed.

Todd held back a laugh and sat down in the recliner at the corner of the room.

"Dean!" Sam admonished.

"Security's light, it shouldn't be a problem. We just need to wait until it's dark," he acknowledged.

Carter closed her magazine and sat up.

"Great, so who's going?" she asked, eager to go.

"Well, certainly not you. We wouldn't want that mouth of yours to piss the spirit off and kill your pretty face," Dean insisted.

"I'm not afraid of dying," she stoically told him.

"Still, you should leave the summoning to the big men. You might just break a nail."

"Bite me."

"Sorry, I don't eat garbage.".

She stood up.

"It's _trash_. As in white trash, like yourself. If you're going to steal my line, at least get it right," she goaded, leaving the motel room.

**- x -**

Several hours later, Todd returned to the room to a seriously pissed off sister.

"Where the hell have you been all day, Todd?" she demanded.

"We went out for lunch and then we went to a bar for a while. Geez don't have a cow," he coolly explained only to sharply duck from the pillow flying at his face.

"You left me here all day! You took the car!" she shouted, getting ready to throw another pillow.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second, Carter! If it makes you feel any better, you're going with the Winchesters to summon the boy," he enlightened her.

This seemed to relax her for she lowered her pillow and tossed it back on her bed.

"Oh," she simply said, retrieving a soda from the mini fridge.

"Oh? That's it? Just oh? You threw a pillow at me," he whined.

"You still left me without the car," she pointed out to him.

He shook his head at his little sister and shed his jacket, "You're supposed to meet them at their room in five minutes."

She rolled her eyes and threw on her forest-green Hannah jacket and blue Converse sneakers to meet the Winchesters five minutes later. She knocked on the door and somewhat patiently waited.

"Go away, we don't need your services," a gruff voice that could only be Dean's, called through the door.

"Open up, jackass," Carter commanded.

A slight struggled resounded on the other side of the door and Sam was the one who swung open the door. Carter enjoyably smirked at Dean, who was gingerly massaging the back of his head.

"Shall we get the ball rolling?" she pleasantly asked.

The brother's followed her out the door into the cold February night.

"Don't think you're sitting shotgun," Dean clucked in her ear as he brushed past her. Carter bit her tongue and slid into the back seat.

At the cemetery, Carter helped Sam set up the makeshift altar on the ground while Dean comfortably sat on a nearby headstone flipping through a jam-packed journal. Carter attended to lighting the candles on the five-point Sam had just drawn on the mat.

"Carter, can you hand me the bundle that's in my pack?" Sam asked.

"Yeah one sec," she obliged, shooting Dean an annoyed look, "Instead of leafing through that journal of yours, why don't you come and help us?"

Briefly, he glowered at her before turning another page. Flustered, Carter sighed and handed Sam the bundle, which he then placed in the center of the five-point.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Dean asked, unconvinced it really would.

Sam looked up at his brother, handing Carter the other materials to assemble.

"No, but if a ghost is around it'll smoke him out," he truthfully told Dean.

Dean closed the book, something clearly on his mind.

"What?" Sam wondered.

"This job is jacked, that's what," Dean breathed, still not comfortable with the case.

Carter busied herself with the altar as the boys talked.

"How so?" Sam questioned

"You want me to gank a monster or, or torch a corpse pft, hey let's light it up right? But this...if we fix whatever this is, people are going to start dropping dead, good people," he frowned.

Sympathetically, Sam gazed at his brother and stood, "Look, I don't want them to die either, Dean, but there's a natural order."

"You're kidding me right?" Dean accused.

"What?"

"You don't see the irony in that? I mean you and me are like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death."

"Yeah, but the normal rules don't really apply to us, do they?"

Dean smiled, disbelieving his brother while Carter still idly sat quiet.

"We're no different than everybody else!"

Sam looked at him, "I'm infected with demon blood, you've been to Hell. She already knows, calm down," he added seeing Dean's nervous glance toward Carter.

"Well she just knows everything now, doesn't she?" he scorned, "Why so quiet all of a sudden, Carter? Usually you're running mouth the second after I say something."

She annoyingly looked at him, "Because I agree with you."

The smirk on his face quickly vanished as he looked away expecting some witty remark form her, "Oh."

"I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you're not. Neither am I. The sooner you accept that, the better off you're going to be." Throughout Sam's little monologue, Dean gazed up at the sky watching his own breath.

"That Joe the Plumber was a douche," he absentmindedly said, causing Carter to smile. Sam faintly nodded his head.

"Are you going to help us finish this?"

Dean made an "o" shape with his mouth, sniffed his nose, and stood up to finally help.

_Too little, too late_, Carter thought.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" A security guard demanded. Carter studied the man, slowly standing up in between the boys.

"Uhh look just...take it easy..."

"What the hell is this?" the man asked, observing the altar.

"Uh, oh this-this-this is not what it looks like," Dean stuttered and nervously chuckled.

"Really? Because it looks like devil worship to me."

"What? No, no this I not devil worship this...this is," Dean stuttered again, struggling for an explanation, "I have no good explanation."

"Don't worry, we're leaving," Sam assured but the moment he said it, Carter saw the man's face, his real face. Almost subconsciously, Carter drifted closer to Dean as reassurance.

"You're not going anywhere," he threatened, "ever...again...Sam." Turning to Dean and Carter, the man's eyes rolled back in his head so that only the whites showed.

Disdainfully, Dean and Carter growled, "Alastair."

"I thought you got deep fried, extra crispy," Dean said.

"No, just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious," he jested.

Anger boiling over, Carter stepped toward the demon, "You sadistic bastard!"

Dean swiftly caught her arm and pulled her back. She gruffly threw away his hand, shooting him a dirty look in the process, and glowered back at a laughing Alastair.

"Carter Augustine, you're the one that got away. Anyway, no time to chat. Got a hot date with death..."

With a brisk flick of his hand, Alastair sent Dean soaring over the grounds into a headstone, where he was quickly knocked unconscious. The force was meant for Carter as well, but she still stood, unaffected, striding over to Sam. The two menacingly stared Alastair down as he tried throwing them again.

"You've grown strong, Sam and you've picked up a nice trick there, Carter," he noted.

"You have no idea," Sam snarled, using his own powers to chuck Alastair into a nearby tree where, shocking Sam, Carter used her own ability to hold the demon there. Unfortunately for both, the demon promptly fled his host in a haze of charcoal smoke.


	4. Chapter 3

**::Chapter 3::**

Carter angrily kicked a candle against a nearby maple, bellowing into the chilled air. Sam rushed to the side of his brother who was lethargically trying to sit himself upright with groans of pain.

"Dean, c'mon. Are you ok?" Sam worriedly asked, propping his brother up.

Dean merely grumbled.

"Let's just get him back to the motel, Sam. We can have Todd look after him while we come back," Carter proposed, taking hold of Dean's other arm.

"Where's Alastair? What happened?" he slurred as Sam and Carter walked him to the Impala. Before running to the other side, Sam made sure Carter had a good grip on the sturdy Dean. Using all of her weight, Carter hoisted Dean into the back seat.

"Come on, Dean, you gotta work with me here," she grunted, straining to help Dean in a sitting position.

"Get off me, Carter, you're going to make it worse," he grumbled.

"If you didn't have a probable concussion, I would slap you," she panted, pulling the seatbelt over his shoulder.

Five minutes later, Sam pulled into the parking lot and carried the disoriented Dean to his bed. Carter followed behind them and slinked into the kitchenette to prepare an icepack.

"Take care of him while I'm gone," Sam appeared in the doorway.

"Where are you going?" she asked, really not wanting to be left alone with Dean.

"Bobby called so I'm going to hit him back," he explained.

Carter begrudgingly nodded, peering around the corner to see Dean holding his head in his hands. Shaking her head, she continued to fill the icepack with crushed ice cubes she retrieved from the freezer.

"Any day now would be nice, Carter," Dean nagged.

Tongue furiously running over her teeth, Carter slammed the freezer shut and came around by Dean.

"'Bout time. Get me a beer too, wouldja?" he asked, holding his hand out for the ice. Evading his outstretched hand, Carter chucked the ice at him, muttering something Dean couldn't quite make out. He knew he wasn't getting that beer.

"I hope you're in pain," Carter wished, snatching the remote off Dean's bed just as he dove for it.

"Well aren't you just a cynical little brat," he pointed out, falling onto his back, the ice pressed against the bump on his head. Every couple minutes or so, a small moan escaped Dean's lips causing Carter to turn up the volume on the TV.

"Are you having an orgasm or are you just being obnoxious?" Carter asked, all patience lost as she slammed the remote down on the table next to her.

"The room is spinning," he wavered.

A pang of ever-so-slight concern bubbled in Carter and sighing, she turned off the TV to help Dean. Regretting even coming to Dean's side, Carter hesitantly crawled on the bed next to him. Dean's strong physique sharply came into her focus. Being closer to Dean than ever, she took in the curves of muscle underneath his clothes and realized if they ever did fight, he could snap her in two with extreme ease. Dean looked at her in surprise as her small hand took down the cold ice. The tentative feeling plaguing Carter's insides vanished as her slender fingers combed his light brown hair for other signs of injury.

"I half expected you to be a bitch and make it worse," he admitted.

Carter grinned, gently sweeping her fingertips over the small swelling protruding the side of his head near his temple.

"Alastair smacked you around pretty good."

Smirking, he closed his eyes as Carter applied the ice once more. The door abruptly burst open and Todd paused at the sight of Carter still stroking Dean. Carter jumped and stared at her brother.

"Am I interrupting something?" he smirked, closing the door.

Exchanging a glance with Dean, Carter slid off the bed, retrieving her jacket from the chair she previously occupied.

"He has a concussion," she quietly reported.

"I can see how that would warrant you putting your hands all over him," he beamed.

Dean raised his eyebrows and dropped his head again.

"The little noob was making strange sounds. I had to shut him up somehow," she shoved past him.

"Don't leave, Sam needed to talk to us."

Todd saw Carter's head drop. Reluctantly, she turned back around, slugging her brother in the shoulder. Moments later, Sam entered the room and smirked at his brother.

"How're you doing?"

"In pain, that's how I'm doing," Dean uttered still back on the bed, "I think I have a concussion."

"Want some aspirin?" Sam asked.

Dean sat up, tossing the ice pack to Carter, who was already stepping over to the kitchenette, "No thanks, House."

Carter returned and stood next to Sam.

"So, Alastair's in town..." she began.

"So much for miracles," Todd lamented.

"What the hell happened with Alastair again?" Dena asked, not conscious for that part of the encounter.

"He tried to fling me and it didn't work, so he bailed." Sam simply put.

"How come he couldn't fling you? He chucked you pretty good last time," Dean commented.

"No idea," Sam shrugged dropping the keys on the table.

"Sam, do me a favor. If you're going to keep your little secrets I can't really stop you but just don't treat me like an idiot, ok?"

Dean stared at Carter, as if daring her to say something smart. Instead she wrapped her fingers around Sam's arm to stop him from saying something that would draw the matter on. The firm but gentle grasp caused Sam to immediately fall silent. Dean, annoyed, wet his lips and just nodded his head.

"Anyway," Carter interrupted, "you said Bobby called you?"

She sat on the arm of the chair Todd was sitting in.

"Yeah, he did some digging. He thinks we're right," Sam encouraged, taking a seat on the bed opposite Dean, "Local reapers gone, kidnapped."

"By demons? Why?" Dean asked.

"Listen to this: Any bloody death under the newborn sky, sweet to taste but bitter when once devoured," Sam recited.

"Swanky, what the hell does that mean?"

"Well it's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations."

Carter let out a sound of frustration, causing the Winchesters to look at her.

"I take it you know what's going on?" Dean snottily assumed.

Todd and Carter silently nodded.

"Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon, tomorrow night by the way..."

"And we're one seal closer to Lucifer rising," Carter finished.

"So you guys do know about seals," Sam repeated.

"'Course, Castiel told us what was going down with Lilith. 600 seals and only 66 need to break. I said it was a lost cause but..." Todd fell silent jabbing his thumb in the direction of Carter.

"How do you ice a reaper?" Dean wondered aloud, "You can't kill death."

"Reapers aren't actually death. They take the souls from the mortally sick and injured and carry them away. Regardless, there still are ways to kill them," Carter regretfully told them.

"Well, I want to know where the hell the angels are, we could use their help for once," Sam acknowledged.

Dean, smirking, turned around to Carter, "I'm sure you could get a hold of your little angel pal, Carter."

A plastered smile crossed her lips and she flipped him off, making him chuckle.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to do this one ourselves," Dean decided.

"How? Reapers are invisible. The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying," Sam reminded him.

"Well if ghosts are the only ones that can see 'em, then we become ghosts," Dean matter-of-factly determined.

Todd let out a nervous laugh and Sam looked at his brother, "You do have a concussion."

"Sounds crazy, I know," Dean recognized.

"That's because it is, Dean. You'll just be a ball of air. You won't able to touch anything. Not to mention your bodies will just be sitting here for the demons to kill," Carter argued.

"I take it, you won't be joining us?" Dean turned around.

"I choose life, thanks," she replied.

Sam and Todd shared the same disbelieving look.

"Thought you weren't afraid to die?" he countered.

"I'm not. I just don't have a burning death wish."

"Carter, give it a rest!" Todd scolded his sister, who, with a scowl, retreated into the fridge.

"How are we going to do this?" Todd asked, still irritated with his sister's attitude.

"Dean and I know a psychic, Pamela Barnes," Sam explained.

"She's not going to help us," Dean pointed out.

"She's going to have to," Carter returned, soda in hand.

"Well then I'll just give her a buzz," Dean stood up disappearing into the hallway.

Hours flew by, and the remaining three hunters got some shut eye, or tried to anyway. Sam gave up his bed for Carter, but during the four hours that they waited for Dean to return, she spent most of her time staring out the window. Nightmares beleaguered the girl's dreams at night as she slept.

_As if five years of that wasteland wasn't enough_, Carter brought her knees up to her chest as she saw the sun start to rise.

"If you weren't going to sleep, you could've given me the bed," Sam whispered in the recliner next to her, his eyes still closed.

"I thought I was being quiet," she answered in an apologetic tone.

"You were, but he wasn't" Sam indicated to Todd who was snoring away.

Carter smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"You should've slept. You're going to need it," Sam said, switching on a light and sitting up.

Carter merely shrugged and turned another chair quietly so she didn't wake Todd.

"I'm not going with you guys," she told him.

"Why not?" he asked, figuring she would jump on the opportunity.

"Four's a crowd. Besides, I went with you to the cemetery so it's Todd's turn. I can chill here with Pamela and protect you guys," she whispered.

"You still should've gotten some sleep," he lectured.

Smiling, Carter rolled her eyes and rested her chin on her hands.

"I don't sleep much, not since I came back," she confessed.

"Yeah, Dean neither," Sam remembered.

"I can't find peace in sleep. I'll try to think of something else but my brain always works to the screams and sights of it," she softly spoke.

She glanced up at doleful Sam and slightly laughed, "I'm sorry, the things you tell people you hardly even know..."

He smiled, "It's cool, I don't mind."

Several minutes later, Sam's phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up as Todd gave a frightening snort. Carter jumped and threw a pillow at her brother's sleeping form, silencing him.

"That was Dean, he'll be here in ten minutes," Sam informed her.

She nodded and strolled over to her brother's bedside, clutching another pillow. In a quick precise movement, Carter abruptly woke her brother. Her laughing only subsided just as Dean and Pamela arrived.

"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you people are," Pamela walked in without so much as a "hello." She unexpectedly stopped as she came across Carter's path and smirked, knowing instantly who it was.

"And you need my help why again?" she asked, pointing to Carter. The Winchesters quizzically looked at the girl, who was averting their stares.

"I'm not going with them," she told Pamela.

"Of course you're not. So, who's the brainiac that thought of astral projection?" she wondered.

Dean raised his finger, "Yo."

Pamela scoffed, "Of course, Chachi"

Carter giggled as the boys all exchanged confused looks.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: I tend to do a lot of research when it comes to Supernatural stories so the majority of the time, the websites, places, and street names that are mentioned are real. Ex. The newspaper mentioned in the previous chapter. **

**::4::**

About an hour passed before the guys really convinced Pamela to perform the spell. It was Dean's oh-so domineering speech on the apocalypse that really cajoled Pamela over. Once that task was completed, the group took to getting ready. Dean and Carter lighted several candles scattered across the room as Sam and Todd adjusted the lighting.

"Watch it!" Carter yelled at Dean, who turned around into her with a burning candle.

"Well get out of my way," he coolly instructed, setting the candle down.

"Y'know, you shouldn't piss me off, I have a lighter in my hand," she threatened.

"I'm shaking, I really am," he went to place another candle.

Pamela, arms folded across her chest, chuckled at the two as if she knew something.

"So tell me something, geniuses, even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how are you going to save it?" Pamela asked.

"With style and class," Dean replied.

"Wow," Carter mocked, receiving a blow to her back from Todd.

"You'll be defenseless, hot shot," Pamela pointed out to them.

"Exactly what I said," Carter reiterated, throwing up her arms and disappearing from the room.

Pamela chuckled, "She's smart, I would listen to her more often. Ok boys, lie down."

Dean rolled his eyes and the boys lay themselves down on the beds and recliner. Pamela chanted the incantation necessary for the boys to enter the spirit world and twenty minutes later they were leaving the motel as ghosts.

"Hey, check it out, it's Carter," Dean pointed her, a devious grin playing his face.

Sam and Todd shook their heads at him and watched as he approached Carter, who was carrying a bag of food and popping a fry in her mouth. To Dean's utmost shock, she stopped and threw him a weird look.

"What're you smirking at, noob? What, the spell didn't work?" Carter asked, chomping on another fry.

Dean looked back at an equally confused Sam and Todd before turning back to Carter.

"You can see us?" he marveled.

Her eyes grew wide and she hastily entered the room, rushing past the boys and hoping they would just go find the reaper. To her luck, they didn't follow and she sighed with relief.

"I suppose you just had a run in with our friendly ghosts?" Pamela assumed, taking the food Carter just brought for her.

"They don't know the extent of my...ability I guess. It's not really a power," she told her.

"No, it's not. It's the effects of being in Hell for 600 years. You're still submerged in the twilight," Pamela explained.

"Will it ever go away?" Carter hoped.

"Would you really want it to?" she countered.

"I can feel death around me. That's why I'm not afraid, I'm so used to it being around. I can't stand the feeling of dread, though," Carter confessed, sitting opposite the psychic.

"And let me guess, that feeling goes away when you're around Rin Tin Tin?" she guessed.

"Why?" Carter wondered, knowing she was talking about Dean.

"What do you remember of Hell?" she smirked.

Carter looked away, trying to block out the shrieks of pain.

"We weren't always tortured," she softly began, "not in a physical way anyway. The first thing they did when new souls arrived was strip them of their clothes. God had given Adam and Eve clothes to minimize their shame so it's only fitting that the demons took them away to maximize it. When you weren't being tortured, you were locked away in cells. You would try to sleep but the screams of others being violated kept you awake. Even if you did, the demons would make you stay up. There were times when the demons would open your cell door, allowing you to walk around. You were crazy if you did," she shook her head.

Her eyes flicked up at Pamela, who smirked.

"And what did you see?" Pamela asked.

Carter looked back down, "The demons opened my cell and figured I would never leave, so they never watched. There are places in Hell that are silent. No souls and no demons, or very little of them. There was lore dating back to when Lucifer fell, script that was written by the fallen soldiers of the Great War in Heaven, it was fascinating, nothing evil about it. It spoke of a lake of fire that gave off darkness instead of light. I remember searching for it and then waking up at my old house."

Pamela frowned, "You don't remember anything else?"

Solemnly, Carter shook her head. Hours passed and the sun set, leaving the two women wondering where the boys were and if they were safe. The wind howled outside and a twinge of fear coursed through Carter as the lights flickered. She abruptly stood and locked up the door and turned to Pamela who was also on her feet.

"Go find them," she ordered.

Carter nodded and gracefully hopped through the open window. A great feeling of foreboding elated her senses as a demon in disguise approached her. Not easily fooled, Carter threw her fist in the guy's face and threw him against the wall, rendering him unconscious. Only then, did Carter realize that she didn't know where to find the boys. Disgust flowing through her, she hauled the demon up and forcefully slammed him awake.

"Where are they?" she demanded.

The demon threw her off him but she redirected his power back on him and 'forced' him against the wall of the motel again.

"You're too late!" he grinned.

Not amused, Carter slid him across the ground with just a twist of her wrist and slammed him against a tree.

"I won't ask you again," she threatened, now waving her S&W in his face.

"You won't kill me, you'll kill the man I'm possessing," he strained against her power.

"Try me," she menacingly hissed.

He saw the blind rage burning in her eyes, "They're at the funeral home on Greybull Avenue!"

With another hard blow to the head, the demon fell unconscious and Carter raced through parking lots to the funeral home. As Carter approached the forlorn building, she noticed it was bathed in sketchy blue symbols. Wasting no time, though, she passed into the home and was instantly on her guard at the sound of an ominous voice. The voice came from Alastair, she learned upon walking into the main room of the funeral home.

"Alastair!" she called.

The demon became distracted, and a lighting fixture fell, releasing the reaper that Alastair held hostage. The reaper reappeared and freed the boys, who all vanished. Alastair roared and threw away the weapon he had in his hand, charging toward Carter. She raised her fists and dodged Alastair's attack. The second time around she wasn't so lucky. In a flash, he spun around and tossed her across the room. Her small body skid across the floor and crashed into a wall. The demon hauled her up and trapped her against the wall, making it easy for him to hit his target.

"I'm going to send you back to Hell," he terrorized, closing his hand around her airway. Her nails dug into his hand as she struggled against his grasp.

"Hey!" a strong voice shouted.

Alastair turned right into Dean's fist and released Carter who crumbled to the ground coughing. Dean seized her hand and pulled her out of the building while Alastair was still disoriented. Still tightly holding Carter's petite hand, Dean led them away from the building.

"W-where are we...g-going," she choked still trying to regain her breath, gripping Dean's hand just as firmly so as not to lose him.

"Todd and Sam didn't reappear with Tessa and me," he told her rounding the corner only to stop at the sight of Alastair.

"You can't run...not from me," he crooned, slowly stepping toward the pair, forcing them backward, "I'm inside your angsty little noggins."

Without warning, a great flash of lightning struck Alastair and Dean shielded Carter as the bolt consumed the demon.

He looked at her, who stared at him just as startled, "What the hell?"

"Guess again," a new voice said.

They turned around to find the angel Castiel subtly smiling. Carter grinned and folded her arms across her chest.

"What just happened?" Cas, voiced what Dean and Carter were thinking, "You four just saved a seal. We captured Alastair...this was a victory."

"Well, no thanks to you," Dean blamed, making Carter frown and shake her head at him.

Castiel gazed at him, "What makes you say that?"

Realization swept over both Carter and Dean.

"You were here the whole time," Carter said.

"Enough of it," Castiel admitted.

"Well thanks for your help with the rock salt," Dean hotly said.

"Dean, the angels couldn't get in. Those symbols were angel-proofing the building," Carter realized, "That was never Bobby was it? That's why you recruited us, because we could get in the building."

"Yes," Castiel replied, admiring Carter's brilliance.

"If you wanted our help, why the hell didn't you just ask?" Dean fervently asked.

"Seriously," Carter echoed.

"Because whatever I ask, you two seem to do the exact opposite," the angel accused, causing the two to glance shamefacedly at each other.

Dean sighed, "So what now? People are just going to start dying in this town?"

"Yes," he flatly answered.

"These are good people, don't you think you could make a few exceptions?" Dean pleaded.

"To everything there is a season," Cas alluded.

Carter rolled her eyes, "I hated that poem, so glass half empty."

"You made an exception for me," Dean pointed out.

"You're different," Castiel glanced between the two, forcing Dean to wonder why Cas was even talking to her.

Castiel offered his hand out to Carter, which she took and he walked her back to the motel, leaving Dean to help the reaper Tessa.

Castiel studied the beaten girl, "You're always injured when I'm around."

Carter gave a halfhearted laugh and wiped away the blood trickling down her face.

"Why, Cas?" she stopped, imploring the angel for answers.

"Like Dean, you are needed," he answered, not evading her gaze.

"For what? I'm not buying the whole protecting seals thing, Cas. Todd's right, that is a lost cause. So what twisted purpose am I being used for? I know I just wasn't given a second chance," she challenged.

"Everything will become apparent in due time but for now you must protect him," he instructed.

"Sam? I know the dude's got some issues but I think he can take care of himself," Carter observed, beginning to walk again.

"Not Sam, Dean," he clarified, causing her to stop again.

"He doesn't need my protection, he doesn't _want_ my protection, Cas. He wants nothing to do with me," she muttered, "And frankly I don't enjoy his company either."

"You and Dean must learn to tolerate each other. The two of you have an important role to play," he implied.

Carter turned to mouth off but found that Castiel had left. Resisting an urge to scream, she stormed the rest of the way back to the motel. Before Carter even step foot in the room, she knew something was wrong. Todd furiously rounded on her when she entered the room.

"You were supposed to be here! We almost died! Pamela is dead!" he shouted, aggressively shaking Carter by the shoulders.

She smacked away his arms and shifted awkwardly under all their stares.

"She told me to leave. She knew something was up with you three so she sent me to help you," she quietly defended herself.

Sam and Dean looked at each other understanding but Todd was still peeved. Carter guiltily looked at Pamela's body and faced her enraged brother, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? A woman is dead because of you, Carter!" he blamed, forcing her to look at Pamela's body.

"Hold on, Todd," Dean cut him off, "Who's to say that Carter wouldn't have been killed too? Had she stayed who would you blame for her death?"

Carter was grateful for that uncharacteristic move.

"Yeah, it's really not your fault, Carter, you were just following Pamela's order's," Sam agreed, gently leading Carter outside away from a still fuming Todd. Sam looked at Dean, who understood that he needed to take care of Todd and Pamela's body.

"It really wasn't your fault, Carter," Sam reiterated, sitting down on a small hill at the edge of the parking lot. Carter sat next to him and distractedly stared off into space.

"No, Todd was right, Sam. I shouldn't have listened to her. I should've stayed," she hung her head.

"You really can't blame yourself. It was Dean and me who talked her into it. If it wasn't for us..." he didn't finish.

"Come off it, I know why you and Dean are trying to defend me," she told him, gazing straight into his eyes.

"Why's that?" he smiled.

"Because in yours and your brother's eyes, I'm just the cute, helpless, girl that doesn't know better. In Todd's eyes...I'm a hunter who made a fatal mistake that should never have been made," she enlightened him.

"Well you're right about a couple things. You are, in fact, very cute and judging by the bruises and cut on your cheek, I'd say you're only somewhat vulnerable," he smirked.

She unsuccessfully glanced out the corner of her eye to see the cut that Alastair had inflicted, making Sam laugh. Wincing, she pressed her fingers to the gash to see that the bleeding had greatly slowed.

"Give me one second and I can fix that up," Sam said, striding to the Impala.

Only a few moments later, he returned with a small med kit.

"Alright, I need you to come closer, and this is probably going to sting," he warned her, softly wiping away the dried blood from her cheek with an anti-biotic cloth.

"Ouch," she recoiled, involuntarily grabbing his leg, making him faintly jump. He didn't say anything but continued to clean the visibly deep gash. With another sharp intake of breath from Carter, Sam apologized.

"It's ok, you warned me it would sting," she reminded him, cringing again.

"It's deep, you'll need a couple stitches," he told her.

"As long as you don't poke my eye out, go for it," she compromised.

He smiled and opened a sterile needle, "Ready?"

"Yeah, just do it," she braced herself.

Sam finished up the four the stitches and placed a few butterfly bandages over it to keep it closed. As he went to put the kit back in the Impala, sirens blared in the parking lot and an ambulance and a squad car pulled up to the Winchester's room. Sam and Carter somberly watched as Pamela's body was loaded into the back of the ambulance and the police took statements from Dean and Todd.

"I still feel terrible about Pamela," she said, tearing her eyes away from the forlorn scene.

"We all do," he echoed.


	6. Chapter 5

**::Through Night and Chaos:: -5-**

Dean had just retrieved the last bag to be moved to their new room when he heard the sound of a struggle a few doors down. The sounds were emanating from the Augustine's room. Just as he was about to go and investigate, their door was thrown open and Carter came flying out, hitting a nearby parked car.

"If you feel that strongly about it then you can spend the night outside!" Dean heard Todd's voice yell from inside the room.

"I hope a demon attacks your sorry ass!" Carter screamed back, dodging a small backpack full of her possessions.

Mumbling to herself, she gathered her bag and started off to the Durango.

"Ahem," Dean stopped her, somewhat amused.

Anger still welling inside her, she spun around to see Dean pointing to his and Sam's room. She put her hands on her hips and eyed him up.

"Beats staying in a car all night," he coaxed, walking into the room himself.

Carter sighed and lugged her backpack into the Winchester's new room. Dean closed the door behind her and tossed his bag to the side, getting a beer from the mini fridge that they were forced to downgrade to. He lazily popped open the can and lay down on his bed, leaving Carter to uncomfortably gaze around the room.

"You can sit down, you know," Dean teased.

"You're not going to ask why Todd kicked me out?" she surprisingly asked, sitting down in the recliner across from Dean's bed.

"It's not my business," he shrugged, flipping on the TV.

"That's decent of you," she snidely noted.

Dean rolled his eyes, observing her t-shirt and plaid pants that served as her pajamas.

"Y'know I half-expected something a little more risqué for pajamas, from a girl like..." he drifted off seeing that Carter was now sporting a gray, ribbed tank-top and black track shorts. Not exactly the risqué Dean was picturing, but enough to get his blood pumping.

"Where's Sam?" she asked, unaware of Dean's quick once-over.

"Bathroom," he pointed, stealing another glance of her tanned, trim legs.

"That was nice of the motel manager to give you guys another room," Carter mentioned, grabbing an extra blanket and pillow from the closet.

"Uh huh," Dean grunted, trying to keep his eyes focused on the TV. Just as the urge became unbearable, Sam emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and gave Dean an excuse to vanish quickly behind him. Sam curiously stared at Carter. She held up her hand as he was about to speak.

"Todd kicked me out," she informed him pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Why?" he wondered, not affected by Carter's clothing as Dean was.

"We had an argument about Pamela," she willingly told Sam, "Dean offered to let me sleep here."

"_Dean,_ did that?" he asked in amazement.

"I'm just as shocked as you are," she laughed.

"Well you're welcome to trade with me, so long as you actually sleep this time," Sam offered.

She shook her head, "I can't make any promises so I'll just take the chair. But thanks."

Carter sighed and rummage through her backpack for her toothbrush. She heard the door open behind and her and turned only to run into Dean's bare chest.

"Oof, get a shirt on before you poke someone's eye out," she scoffed, walking past him to brush her teeth. Sam laughed and Dean grumbled to himself, pulling a black t-shirt over his head.

"She might be a bitch but she's got killer legs," Dean murmured to Sam who rolled his eyes in response.

"Is that all you ever think about, Dean?" Sam frowned.

"Well I need to find something good about her if I'm going to tolerate her," he defended, turning out his light.

Carter came out of the bathroom and put her toothbrush away.

"You sure you don't want to sleep in the bed?" Sam asked again.

"No, I'm good here," she smiled.

"Then promise me, you'll get some sleep," he told her.

"For you? Sure," she said, climbing into the oversized recliner.

"Oh please, don't make me gag," Dean piped up making Carter narrow her eyes.

She heard the TV click off and was consumed in darkness. The only sounds in the room came from the rustling of bed covers from Dean and Sam's beds. Carter lay awake for what seemed like hours but was actually only minutes before sleep finally laden her eyes shut.

Upon closing her eyes, Carter was sent in a whirlwind back to her memories of Hell.

_Rotting and bloody bodies engulfed her vision as she was forced to step among dismembered limbs and flames. Howling demonic screeches and powerless shrieks from the damned pounded her ears as the violent heat of Hell burned her skin. Everything went dark just as Carter felt herself being tortured with a fiery blade. Her screams were drowned out by the maniacal laughter of her torturer. The lights flashed on and off and Alastair's face, his real face, materialized in front of Carter as he brought his knife closer and closer to her face. _

With a horrified gasp, Carter bolted upright to realize that the flashes were coming from the TV now playing reruns of George Lopez. Carter's gaze turned from the TV to her shaking arms.

"You talk in your sleep often?" Dean calmly asked from his bed, watching the TV.

"Are you alright?" he asked, seeing her small form trembling in the semi-darkness.

Heavily panting, Carter wiped away the cold sweat from her forehead and nodded, "Yeah," she faintly spoke. She glanced at the TV, which was turned so that the light shed only on Dean to keep from bothering Sam. Carter stiffly walked into the bathroom to splash her face with cold water. Heart still pounding, she stared at her bruised and weary face in the mirror.

Carter never really took the time to really look at herself since coming back from the pit, as unlikely as it seems. Her face hadn't changed much, she saw. She still had small ears and a small nose. Her eyes were still those dark pools of blue, but her lips were slightly fuller with her older age. She still disliked her forehead, which she had always thought was far too big, but she loved her clear complexion that maybe had lost some of the color it used to hold. Carter had never really considered herself all that pretty, there were certainly prettier faces than hers, but her newly matured body had drawn other opinions.

Switching off the bathroom light, Carter returned to her chair shivering from the cold air of the room. To counter the sudden chills, Carter enwrapped herself in the blanket only to still shudder. Dean watched her, unable to keep his indifferent pretense going.

"Carter," she looked over at him, "Come on," he sighed, moving over and lifting the blanket.

Carter halfheartedly obliged and Dean pulled the blanket over them both.

"Thanks," she quietly spoke after minutes of sitting in silence.

Dean looked at her, "No problem."

Carter leaned back against the headboard, ignoring the fact that she and Dean were pressed together in the tiny bed.

"So are you going to tell me about your power, Yoda?" Dean asked, gazing at her again.

"It's not a power and it's none of your business," she sensitively told him, disregarding the Yoda comment.

"Yeah, whatever," he uninterestedly turned back to the screen.

She sighed again, "Why are _you_ wide awake at this hour?"

He was silent for a while before he answered and even when he did, he was uncomfortable even telling her.

"Hell finds a way to stay with me. The things I did...haunt me in my sleep. But I wouldn't expect you to understand," he scorned, giving her a fake smile. Carter had heard what he had done in Hell from Castiel.

"You're right, I wouldn't. But I understand more than you think, and I haven't exactly had an apple pie life, so don't patronize me, Dean," she replied.

"Patronize you? You weren't the one in Hell," he countered.

Angrily glaring at him, Carter removed the blankets and jumped back into her recliner more prepared to face the cold than to sit next to the likes of that man.

**- x -**

"Sammy, hey! Wake up already," Dean patted his brother's legs.

"What time is it?" he mumbled, sluggishly trying to check the clock.

"Eh about eight in the morning. Listen, I'm gonna swing by the pool," Dean told him putting on his shoes.

"Dean, you don't own swim shorts," Sam sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, no, but I was by the front desk and this really fine chick walked in there. With any luck she's still there," he smirked.

Sam shook his head as his brother left. At the humid, indoor pool, Dean spotted the girl in a bikini talking to Todd with her back turned on Dean. He suavely walked over to the pair, "Hey, Todd,"

The girl, just as Dean had hoped, turned around but only for his face to contort into a look of horror mixed with shock.

"Can we help you, Dean?" Carter rudely asked.

Dean shook himself out of his daze and attempted to regain his composure, "Um, I believe I was talking to Todd, thanks."

Todd and Carter exchanged confused looks.

"Uh ok. What's up, Dean?" Todd asked, shrugging off Dean's odd behavior.

"Well I, was, just wondering if you two were staying for Pamela's funeral. It's in a few days," he recovered.

Carter rolled her eyes and looked at him as if he were stupid.

"Well, yeah, you knew that already, though," Todd said, mirroring his sister's inquiring stare.

"Oh, right, right," Dean meekly smiled.

"Ok, well I have to go shower, so I'll see you later," Todd told him, hastily making an exit.

Carter folded her arms across her chest and laughed at the Winchester.

"You're a bigger spaz than I thought, Dean," she commented.

He sneered at her, taking notice that she wasn't even wet.

"Why are you even here if you're not going to swim?" he snidely mocked.

"Well I was going to take some laps but you kind of ruined that with your face," she argued, trying to walk past him.

He side-stepped her every move. She used her body to try and push him out of the way, but it was like running into a brick wall.

"Move, Dean!" she yelled at him, still struggling.

"You came here to swim," he smirked, grabbing her arms and throwing her into the pool.

Carter resurfaced seconds later screaming, "Asshole!"

Dean, laughing, bent down, "How's the water?"

Before he could even react, Carter grabbed the collar of his shirt and hurled him headlong behind her. He stood up in the five feet of water, fuming at Carter.

"You're a bitch," he said with as much restraint possible.

"You threw me in first, I was only returning the favor," she smirked, wading to the shallow end of the pool. With a slap of water, Dean followed.

Both shaking like mad, they grabbed towels and faced the cold February air back to their rooms.

"It's freezing out here," Dean's teeth chattered.

"Try wearing only a bikini!" Carter retorted.

"You've got a towel on," he smartly answered.

Carter grumbled and furiously rubbed her arms.

"So are you and Todd siblings again?" Dean asked, feeling like the talking kept his mind off the cold.

"We talked this morning," she vaguely told him.

"What about after Pamela's funeral? Are you going to stalk me and Sam?" he quipped.

"Cas, told us we have to stay together," she said.

Dean rolled his eyes, "What _is_ it with you and him? That's all I ever hear come out of your mouth 'Castiel said so, so we have to do it.'"

Carter stopped and stared at him.

"He saved you from Hell, Dean. Whether it was for some other reason or for a second chance, you're still alive. Be grateful you're still not down there," she darkly reminded him.

After it looked like he really took in what she said he responded, "What, is he giving you a little angel nookie?"

"You're a pig," she spat.

"Hey, if I was an angel and I had a girl as hot as you wrapped around my every word, I sure as hell would be," he admitted only to feel the sting of Carter's hand smacking the side of his frozen face.


	7. Chapter 6

Out of annoyance with Dean's behavior, Sam offered to take Carter to an informal dinner and then to a local bar where Dean would meet up with them. After much begging and pleading from Sam, Carter agreed only if he wasn't going to try hitting on her.

"I totally wish I had gone with you guys!" Carter laughed after Sam told her about Cole punching Dean in the face. Sam laughed with her and took another bite of his burger at the little joint.

"So," he started, sipping his soda after they had stopped laughing, "Why is it that you could see us as ghosts when Pamela couldn't?"  
"She didn't spend five years in Hell, did she?" Carter said, playing with her straw, "She said it was the effects of being in the pit for so long. She said a part of me is still in the veil."

Sam studied her, sensing that she didn't believe what she was saying.

"You don't think so?" he voiced what he was thinking.  
"I wasn't exactly a good little soul down there. I did a lot of exploring," she looked up at him.  
"They let you walk around?" he shockingly asked.  
"Not exactly. They would open your cell doors to taunt you, they never expected any of us to actually get up. So I did. I don't remember my last year in Hell. And something tells me I found some important information," she guessed.

"Why's that?" he mused.  
"Well, the spirit thing and the whole sensing the supernatural I get. But being able to turn a demon's power back onto them just doesn't come with being in Hell. I mean, maybe if I had started to become a demon it would make sense," she explained.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, losing what she was saying.  
"Well, you know that demons are people who have just been deeply corrupted in Hell, right?" Sam nodded, "How do you think they are corrupted and forced to forget they were human?" she asked him.

He sat there a moment but then a look a comprehension dawned over him.

"They're forced to torture other souls," he said, thinking of Dean.  
"Everybody, _everybody_ cracks. For some it takes longer than others, but they always do," she lamented.  
"You didn't, did you?" he wondered.  
"I always had something to hold on to. I mean, I never thought I would ever escape but I knew they would open my cell again and I would be free to walk the quiet parts of Hell. Don't get me wrong, it sucked something awful, but to have that sense of hope saved me," she finished.

Sam nodded, "So you think that, in those parts you explored, you found some sort of script that taught you how do counter a demon's power?"

"I can't think of anything else it would be," she shrugged.  
"Well, you did say you can't remember your last year. Maybe you did flip?" Sam suggested.  
"Yeah...maybe," she muttered, unconvinced.

Sam took a peek at his watch and tossed some money in the center of the table.

"It's about nine, we should go meet Dean," he stood.  
"Oh joy," Carter rolled her eyes, making Sam smile.

Sam drove Carter to a local pub by the name of Silver Spur where Dean was already ordering drinks for hoochie-looking women. Dean looked over at them with a pleased smile. Carter threw him bogus thumbs up and sat at nearby table. Sam followed suit while hanging his jacket over his chair.

"Can I get you two anything?" a woman wearing a tight black tank top and jeans asked.  
"Yeah a beer and..." he said looking to Carter.  
"An order of fries," she said not looking up from the little card that had a list of food.

The woman wrote down the order and strolled off. Sam laughed as Carter put the card back.

"What?" she innocently asked.  
"We just ate," he reminded her with a kind smile.  
"Bar food is so good, though!" she exclaimed.  
"Not in my experience," Sam replied.  
"You weren't drunk enough," she pointed at him, chewing on a straw.

Sam laughed, hearing the sound of pool rack being broken, and he turned to see a back room filled with pool tables and dart boards.

"What do you say we play a game of pool?" Sam offered, taking the beer from the waitress.  
"Sure why not," Carter agreed, popping a couple fries in her mouth.

Carter took one end of the sapphire-felted table as Sam racked the balls at the other end.

"So are we going to play for money?" Sam asked, with a little smirk making Carter laugh.  
"Sure. Twenty bucks sound fair?" Carter said.  
"Sounds good to me, you break," he told her.

Carter lined herself up along the cue ball and prepared for her shot.

"You're left-handed?" Sam tried to distract her.  
"Yep," she said, striking the cue ball which zoomed to the crowd of pool balls causing the nine, fourteen, and eleven balls to fall into separate pockets.  
"Guess I'm stripes," she pointed out with a smirk as Sam bit his lip, getting a feeling that he just lost twenty bucks. She proceeded to make two excellently calculated bank shots until she put too much spin on the last one, ending her turn.

"Oh it's my turn," Sam feigned surprised.  
"Yeah, I figured I'd give you a shot," she winked.

Sam went on a streak of five without managing to knock one of Carter's stripes in. Carter happily circled the table and directly shot another into a side pocket. Her last stripe would have to be a tricky bank shot off of one of Sam's and the wall to hit the corner pocket closest to her. As she lined up that shot, Sam hunched real close to her trying to distract her again. She could feel his breath on her neck as she hit the cue ball. It lamely rolled against the wall and stopped, causing her to laugh and slap Sam on the shoulder.

"You're such a punk," she chuckled.  
"Hey, whatever it takes," he defended himself.

Carter had no need to mess up Sam, for in his attempt he knocked her last stripe into a pocket without hitting one of his and setting up a perfect shot for the eight ball.

Sam hung his head and Carter laughed quickly calling her shot and making it.

"Double or nothing?" she brightly asked, "You can break."

Sam shrugged as they played another game. This one ended up closer but finished when Sam scratched on his eight ball shot. He grudgingly handed over forty bucks to Carter as Dean ardently strode over.

"What are you doing?" he hotly asked Sam.  
"She won, Dean, what am I supposed to do?" Sam coolly responded.  
"You let _her_ get forty bucks out of you? C'mon, Sammy, you're better than that! Play her again," he ordered.  
"No way, Dean, I already lost forty. I'm not about to lose any more," Sam said.

Dean set his beer down and took the cue from his brother's hands.

"Eighty bucks. I'll let you break," he sneered at Carter, who returned the favor.  
"I wouldn't let—"  
"Quiet, Sam, you had your chance. Let your big brother show you how it's done," he bragged.

Carter snorted and waited for Dean to finish racking the balls.

"You're going down, little girl," he taunted, removing the triangle.

Carter shrugged her shoulders as she pocketed three again on the break and continued to score three more. She composedly moved to her last ball next to Dean.

"Hmm, maybe I should miss this to give you some kind of chance," she pondered aloud, striking the cue and sinking her last solid, "Or not," she smirked.

Dean bunched his lips together and watched as she sunk the eight ball in her called pocket.

"Sam tried to warn you," she reminded him, holding out her hand for his eighty bucks.

He slammed it in her hand, "C'mon, Sam!"

Sam who had watched the match, thoroughly entertained, quickly stood up.

"Where are we going?" he asked.  
"We're leaving, I'm out of money!" he glared at Carter, who joyously counted her wad of bills.

The whole way back to the motel, Dean whined about how Carter must've cheated to make all those shots.

"It's called geometry, Dean, that's all pool is. And maybe a bit of physics but it's mostly geometry," Carter happily explained.

He grumbled and parked the car. As Carter got out of the car, she noticed Todd waiting by his Durango, visibly aggravated. Walking toward him, she saw the large form of Uriel suddenly disappear.

"You lying _whore_!" Todd bellowed.

Taken aback, Carter abruptly stopped, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me!"

Sam and Dean stood nearby.

"Let's go, Sam," Dean pressed.  
"No, wait, Dean, he sounds pretty mad. You know what he did last time he was mad at her," Sam worriedly watched the other siblings argue.

"You killed him! You selfish _bitch_!" he accused, anger written in every fiber of his body.

Carter's body froze and it seemed to her that her heart stopped beating.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she played off, turning away from him.

He forcefully spun her back around.

"Don't lie! Uriel told me everything! You killed Dad!" he shouted.  
"No, I didn't!" she shouted back.  
"Then you had the demons do it for you! It's no different! Dad's dead! Rotting in Hell! You told me you were in Hell because you killed yourself! But you made a deal and you were dragged there by hell hounds!"

"Dad was a perverted asshole, Todd! He treated me like shit! He deserved to go to Hell!"  
"Dad barely touched you!"

Carter pushed her brother into his car, "HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT! You heard him every day! I tried telling you and Mom! All you did was fucking ignore me and make excuses for that piece of shit!"

"Dad was good to us! He loved us!"  
"You fucking bastard! YOU HEARD ME SCREAMING!" she cried.  
"You ungrateful...Dad took care of us while Mom was gone!"  
"You're a fucking brick wall Todd! I'm glad I made that deal! I'm GLAD he's rotting in Hell! You know, I even remember Alastair torturing that son of a bitch and thinking 'gee maybe it would be worth it to turn just so I could give that asshole the pain he caused me!' The only thing I regret is not including you in that deal!"

Todd unleashed a fistful of his fury into Carter's face, sending her crashing to the cold hard pavement. After the first punch, Todd viciously attacked his sister on the ground, repeatedly sending his foot into her stomach and throwing his fist in her face. The moment the Winchester's saw Todd strike his sister, they broke instantly in a sprint across the parking lot.

"Go. Back. To. Hell," he cruelly kicked her with each word.

Sam reached them first, tackling Todd to ground where Todd tried shaking him off. Dean knelt by Carter, who was unconscious and bleeding freely. He held her head up and she gave a violent cough, spewing blood from her mouth.

"Jesus, Carter," he said, vainly wiping the blood away.

Todd managed to kick Sam off of him and get in his car.

"If you _ever_ try coming near Mom or me again, I'll kill you," he promised, screeching away from the motel.

Dean carefully picked up Carter and brought her into his and Sam's room, sitting her up on the bathroom counter as Sam retrieved her things from the now-abandoned room. Carter dazedly, leaned her head against the wall as Dean cleaned off her face and removed the useless stitches on her cheek. She gave another ugly cough and spit out more blood into the sink. Carter pressed her fingers in the side of her mouth and pulled them out to reveal there was a cut somewhere on the inside of her mouth. Dean glanced from the blood on her fingers to her awkwardly positioned right shoulder.

"You're shoulder's dislocated," was the first thing Dean had said to her and not what Carter had expected. Nevertheless, she cursed loudly, grabbing hold of Dean's hand as he prepared to pop it back.

"On three. One—" Dean pushed hard, popping it back in with a yelp of pain from Carter as Sam walked in, wincing.  
"You...asshole," she panted, tightly clutching his shoulder with her uninjured arm. He smirked and reassuringly squeezed her thigh.  
"Dean, we should take her to the hospital," Sam advised.

Carter shook her head, swallowing hard.

"I'll be ok," she stared at him through a black, swollen eye, "I'm sure."

Sam and Dean exchanged unmoved looks.

"You wrist looks swollen," Sam observed, lightly cradling her right wrist, "I think we have a sling and brace in the trunk."

He disappeared out of the bathroom. Carter's pale face grew warm with shame and she could feel the onslaught of coming tears. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that Todd still defended their father or that he had tried killing her. Carter's confusion and anxiety manifested itself in her throat, forcing her to jump off the counter and hurl into the toilet. Her entire body shook and her long brown hair was pulled back and held by Dean, who graciously handed her some mouthwash. After spitting a mix of blood and Listerine into the sink, Carter collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears, Dean silently shutting the door and sitting down with the distraught girl.

"Carter...I'm sorry," he whispered, wrapping his large arms around her, allowing the girl to cry loudly into his chest.


	8. Chapter 7

**All right! So college wasn't what I expected it to be...good for me bad for you since I didn't have tons o' time to write and post. However, after getting back to some normalcy I have found some inspiration for this story! So here we are...Chapter 7. **

**Couple side notes: I don't own anything Supernatural only my OC(s). And again it's rated M for language and things of a darker/Supernatural nature.**

* * *

"I feel like we should've done something," Sam later sighed as Carter soundly slept on Dean's bed.  
"We did all we could. Either way, Todd would've left her or killed her," Dean stared at Carter's sleeping form, still baffled by the new bit of information. Sam glanced between his brother and Carter.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.  
"I don't know what the hell to think, Sam," he professed, frustratingly wiping his face with his hand, "Those damn angels could've mentioned something about her! She could've been helping us with the seals!"

He heatedly stood and charged out of the room to cool off. Dean stood, head hanging with his hands spread on the Impala's sleek black hood. A slight breeze had picked up and the leaves behind Dean rustled, causing him to turn around and come face to face with Castiel.

Dean's face instantly darkened.

"Come to hide more secrets from me?" he growled.

Castiel sighed, "Carter's situation was our mistake. We thought you knew when you first met her months ago."

"How could I _possibly_ know something like that! I'm no psychic! What, is there some sort of cloud that hangs over people who brought back from the pit?" he mocked.

"Not exactly. People change in the veil, Dean. Carter's perception of the supernatural is a direct result of being in Hell. We assumed that you would have that same awareness," the angel explained.

"You need to stop assuming because frankly, you suck at it," Dean recalled the time when Castiel had tried speaking to him in his real, angelic voice.  
"Though strange you could not tell she was Hell marked, that is not how we thought you knew," Cas admitted.  
"What do you mean?" Dean wondered, anger ebbing away, his curiosity taking over.

Castiel troublingly gazed at Dean, annoying the man as he waited to hear what Cas had to say.

A half an hour later, Dean stumbled into the room, deeply unsettled by what Cas had just revealed.

"What are you doing?" he asked Sam, who was worriedly patting a washcloth on Carter's paled forehead.  
"She's got a fever and she stopped sweating a few minutes ago. She won't wake up, Dean, we need to take her to the hospital."

An unfamiliar sense of responsibility enthralled Dean as he picked up the teenager once again. Sam wasn't kidding when he said she had a fever, she was hot to the touch. He softly laid her down in the backseat.

"Dean, keys!"

He yanked the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Sam in the driver's seat. The engine exploded to life and Dean carefully set Carter's head on his lap and pressed the cool cloth to her burning skin.

"Please...don't," the unconscious girl whimpered. Dean looked down, her eyes were still closed but her face held a look of pain, "Don't do it..."

Dean's face was impassive. He didn't know how to make her stop; the hurt in her voice was terrifying him.

He felt so helpless.

"Stop, Dean. Don't do it," she breathed. Even in the dim light of the car, Sam could see the color in Dean's face drain.  
"What's she saying?" he asked, not understanding her mumbling.  
"I don't...I don't know," Dean lied, wiping his hand down his face.

Two hours later the Winchesters were nervously sitting in the waiting room of the ER. Dean's face was buried in his hands as he tried to shake her painful voice out of his head. His body ached with guilt as he understood what she was dreaming about. Cas wasn't totally off, Carter's face was familiar to him...he just couldn't place where.

"We should've brought her in the first place," Sam intoned, biting at his fingernails and tensely bouncing his leg.

Dean miserably lifted his head. The waiting room, he observed, was startlingly still. His attention was drawn around the unbearable white room to the receptionist desk. His stare stopped on a little, black woman, visibly distressed. Between her sobs, he could make out something about a car accident and her husband. Dean's heart went out to the woman as she was told the tragic news.

"Man, I hate hospitals," he tore his gaze away from the heartrending scene just as the doctor attending Carter came striding down the hall.  
"Uh, Sam and Dean Durden?" the aging physician called, reading from the chart he held in his hands. They stood, meeting the man in the center of the room.

"Your sister's going to be just fine. She still has a fever from her injuries but we've got her on IV fluids to rehydrate her. Her right wrist was also broken," the boys glanced at each other, mentally kicking themselves, "So we've casted that up as well. We're just going to keep her here overnight for observation. Mind telling me how she received her injuries?"

"Her boyfriend," Sam offered up, "attacked her. She called us for help. He ran."  
"I see. Well, you're free to go in and see her now," he strode down the hall into a different room.  
"Come on," Sam said, sliding past his brother. Dean felt his muscles tense up and his breath catch in his throat. He cursed at himself as Sam walked into the room. Teeth clenched he followed.

"Where's Dean?" the sick girl quietly spoke.  
"Right here," he answered, folding his arms across his chest.

Carter stared at him for a moment before sighing.

"You gave us a scare, Carter," Sam took a chair next to her bed.  
"Sorry," she struggled to sit up with one arm. Dean stepped forward to help her.  
"I got it, Lancelot," she chided in a scratchy voice.

He defensively put up his hands and sat in a chair at the corner of the room.

"Carter, when you were unconscious, do you remember...anything?" Sam implored.

She blinked her dark eyes back at him, realizing she must've been talking. Dean recognized the look she was giving Sam.

"No, why?" she lied, seeing the knowing look Dean was sending her.  
"Sam, why don't you run to the cafeteria? I'm sure you and Dean are going to get hungry."  
"Sure," he shrugged, leaving her alone with Dean.

Carter sighed as Dean stole Sam's chair.

"He told you, didn't he?"

Dean questioningly gazed at her.

"I can see it, y'know. You're looking at me differently," she told him.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.  
"Because I didn't want you looking at me the way you are right now."

Carter had expected him to turn away but he continued to intently gaze at her.

"Stop it, Dean," she looked down, unable to meet his stare.  
"But those things I did to you," he pressed, jaw wrought with suppressed emotion. Carter couldn't even imagine what it was like for him.  
"Dean, I don't even remember. Cas had to tell me when he plucked me from the pit," she tried relieving him.  
"Yeah...well I do," he crossly said, standing up and raking his short, brown hair with his fingers. He looked at Carter, tightly clutching the bars at the end of the bed.

"I remember now," he softly said, "You don't get it, Carter. The things...Whatever I do now...can never erase what happened," his lips quivered as he struggled to tell her how he felt and Carter could noticeably read the truthful sadness in his watered eyes. "It's just...you're here now and...I get a chance to make it up to you."

Carter wanted to help, she really did. She knew what it was like down there, that's something her and Dean would always share, no matter how much they disliked each other. But she couldn't shake the feeling she was cursed with when her father crossed the line all those years ago.

"I won't let you, Dean. I don't take handouts, I don't like the attention," she quavered, fearing his reaction.  
"Listen, Carter..." he drew to full height.  
"No, you listen," she interrupted, "I cringe whenever a man comes near me or touches me. I can't go anywhere without weighing the men around me to see if I could take them in a fight. I can't sleep not because I dream about Hell, but because I relive what happened to me as a child. I choose to take matters into my own hands and I wound up in Hell. When I came back, I told myself I would accept what happens to me whatever the consequence; death, torture, pain whatever I deserve. You say that you would fight all the evil you can to make things right? Well that's your road, and this is mine for what I did. Accept it, Dean."

Dean frustratingly sighed and passed through the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, returning with a bag of food.  
"I need some air," he barked, swiftly making his way outside.  
"Do we know anyone that's coming?" Dean asked his brother, walking into their motel room.  
"Bobby's coming. Other than him I'm not sure," Sam answered locking the door behind him.

Carter, who was contently sprawled across Dean's bed, leaned against the headboard catching the bag of food Sam tossed her. Without so much as a glance at Carter, Dean entered the bathroom to shower up for Pamela's funeral.

"You two must've had some conversation back at the hospital, he won't even look at you," Sam noted, flinging his coat on the table.

Carter weakly shrugged and took a small bite of her cheeseburger.

"What happened?" he asked, getting comfortable on his own bed.  
"He didn't say it directly but I'm sure he wanted to keep our conversation private," Carter replied stuffing the food back into the bag. Sam saw this and gave her a reproachful stare.

"Why aren't you eating?"  
"I'm not hungry," she said, laying her head on the soft pillow.  
"You're going to have to eat if you want to get your strength back," he advised.  
"Whatever," she uninterestedly closed her eyes.

The bathroom door swung open and Carter could feel the moist air dance across her body.

"I don't think you should go to Pamela's funeral, Carter. You should rest," Sam said, seeing that it took her great effort to stand up. Carter and Dean awkwardly tried getting around each other as she went to put her bag of food in the fridge. She let out an annoyed sigh and he just leered at her and moved.

"I want to go. Her death was partially my fault," she put her uninjured hand on her hip, bothered that Dean commandeered his bed back. Sam sighed, opening his bed up for her as he grabbed some clothes.

"You talk to her, Dean," Sam relented.  
"Why? She'll just bite my head off," he retorted, tying his shoes without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes and disappeared into the bathroom. When Dean finally looked up, Carter was still standing there with an expecting look.

"Well..." she urged.  
"Well what," he unperturbedly snapped back.  
"Aren't you going to tell me I'm not going?" she asked, attitude lining her tone.

He stood, "You're not going. Now here's where you say 'kiss my ass, Dean,'" he mocked, not a trace of a smile on his face.

"Glad we have an understanding then," she derided with the same aversion as Dean and quickly side-stepped as he came around the bed in her direction to get his leather jacket.

"Where are you going?" she asked, irritated that he was just walking away from her. He simply strode out the door and she followed.  
"Hey!" she loudly said, grabbing hold of his arm and stepping in front of him. Dean strangely looked at her small hand that held him to his place and then looked down at her, his mind instantly filled with the sight of her on the rack in the pit.

"I left to get away from you," he bluntly told her, that sympathetic look creeping back into his eyes.

She exasperatingly sighed, annoyed by what she was about to say.

"Well...don't go. I don't want you to," she admitted with a firm look, just daring him to get smart with her.

She sighed again and ran her fingers through her long, brown hair.

"I trust you and Sam more than most guys. I mean if an angel pulled you from Hell you can't be all bad," she sheepishly rubbed her arm.  
"That's all?" he asked, a slight smirk playing his lips.

Carter rolled her eyes, "Don't flatter yourself, I still loathe you."

He chuckled and turned to go back to the room.

"Sam's right, y'know," he recognized, lying on his back on his bed.  
"Thanks, Mom," she taunted just making him smirk, "I'd rather go with you guys than be left alone in a sleazy motel room all night."  
"What's wrong with the hotel room?" he asked, looking insulted.

Carter just laughed and Sam came out of the bathroom.

"Good to see that Dean's making you laugh instead of scream," he nodded toward his brother.  
"Well, his face _is_ goofy-looking," she smirked.

Dean frowned and folded his arms across his chest. Carter beamed at Sam, knowing that she had won today's unfolding of arguments.


	9. Chapter 8

**This one is more of a filler, developing Carter and Dean's relationship a bit more. Enjoy, though! **

**I don't own anything Supernatural except my OC's. **

So against Sam's and Dean's (mostly Sam's) wishes, Carter traveled in the back of the Impala with the Winchester's to Pamela's funeral held at a cemetery in South Dakota. The car ride there was utterly silent. Carter felt as if she was choking on the tension that flowed through all of the hunters. She was relieved once Dean finally parked the car and they were able to walk into the cool afternoon. Her relief, however, was short-lived. Once they had reached the small gathering of hunter's and family, all eyes became focused in on the trio. Almost as if sensing Carter's apprehension, Dean subconsciously drifted close to her side, so close that they could easily have been mistaken for a couple.

Carter noticed this as they approached the gathering of hunter's, but dared not to move away from his safety. The young hunter recognized many hunters who her mom and Todd have worked with before, and judging by their cold stares and mutterings, news had traveled about the origins of her stay in hell.

"Sam, Dean."

An elderly man around the age of fifty emerged from a pack of Pamela's family. The man drew them into conversation and as the two brothers inched away from Carter's side, her hand reached out to Dean's sleeve. He turned back with a slightly annoyed look and took her hand off.

"What?" he hissed.  
"Don't go," she insisted, indicating to all the people staring at her.  
"Carter, we're right here," he unsympathetically told her, walking away.

She frowned and instantly felt deserted. Her eyes scanned the crowd for the friendly face of Bobby Singer but being as short as she was, this feat proved to be near impossible.

"Carter!" A girl's voiced pierced through the hushed tones of the crowd. Battling her way through the masses was one of Carter's good friends and fellow hunter, Tania Macallum. Carter sighed with relief and embraced her tall, dark friend.

"You got tall," Carter smiled, stepping back to take in her friend's different appearance.  
"Nah, you're just used to my fourteen-year-old self. So, how'd you do it C? Everybody's been wondering."

This question drew in many curious hunters, making Carter extremely uneasy.

"I don't...I don't know," she stuttered.

Tania was silent for a moment, but then smiled.

"Well, however you did it, it's good to have you back," she beamed.

Carter echoed her smile and noticed the nosy hunters retreat back to their other conversations.

"So, uh, how's your mom?" Carter asked.  
"Well she's over there, talking to Bobby Singer," Tania pointed to a beautiful and elevated black woman conversing with the ever-cunning Bobby. Tania drew Carter away from the funeral crowd.  
"She told me about...your deal. We knew something as funky about your dad's death, but we didn't know you were behind it," she whispered.

Carter was immediately on the defensive.

"Tania, you got to..."

She held up her hand, "Don't worry, Babe. My mom and I are on your side. Lord knows how many times we had to take you to the doctor because your mom and brother were in denial. The Reynolds' agree with you too. You remember Chad, right? They heard about it too and they feel the same way. Justifiable murder they called it, I think. What that man did to you, Carter, was so heinous, who knows how far he would've gone. Clearly, your family wasn't going to do anything about it."

"Thanks, Tania."

Tania rubbed Carter's back reassuringly.

"No problem. I always got your back. If you don't mind me asking, how did you get here? I was told Todd had ditched you," she asked.

Carter tiredly leaned against a tree and nodded her head in the direction of Sam and Dean, "The Winchesters. I'm sort of crashing with them now."

Tania's hazel eyes grew wide and she cautiously put her hand on Carter's arm.

"You don't want to do that, Carter. The Winchesters are bad news," she warned.

Carter confusedly narrowed her eyes, "What?"

"Listen to me, Carter, you need to leave them as soon as possible."  
"But why?" she asked, standing up straight.

Tania sighed before glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

"A couple years ago they opened a devil's gate, releasing a whole bunch of hell spawn and apparently the younger one..."  
"Sam?" Carter offered.  
"Whatever, apparently he's infected with demon blood and he's supposed to lead a demon army or something. And Dean, well he's been to hell too, but nobody knows why," She finished, leaving Carter even more bewildered than before.

"They don't seem bad to me," she lamely defended them.  
"Trust me, they are. Why don't you come back with my mom and me? You could live with us, back home!" she excitedly planned.

Carter solemnly shook her head, "I don't think that's a good idea. If I go back to Virginia, Todd's going to be head hunting. Besides I kinda owe Sam and Dean. They saved my life. Todd was trying to kill me, y'know," she explained, gently lifting her slinged arm. Tania unsurely gazed at her old friend.

"Ok...but if you need anything, don't hesitate to call," she wrote her number down and handed it to Carter with another hug, "Keep in touch, yeah?"

Carter smiled and returned to Dean's side to talk with Bobby.

"I didn't know he tried to kill her, all I heard was about the deal she made," Bobby exclaimed as Carter came walking up.  
"Is there some sort of article in Hunter's Digest that everybody got a copy of?" Carter frowned.  
"Apparently. People can't stop talking about us, and not in a good way. They know we had something to do with this," Dean told her.  
"That just makes me feel so much better, thank you," Carter chided. But Dean was too mournful to retaliate and Carter regretted saying anything.

During the Father's last words for Pamela they all sat at the back of the rows and guiltily watched as her sobbing family placed mementos and flowers on her casket. A chilled breeze kicked Carter's long brown hair about her face as the Father's words etched themselves into her memory and conscience. The things he spoke of seemed to eerily be directed at the Winchesters and Carter, as if he was telling everyone that they had directly killed Pamela. Carter broke eye contact with the reverend and gazed down at her toes.

Faces of those that she had to say goodbye to, played in her memory and it soon became unbearable. In the middle of the service, she abruptly got to her feet and walked away.

Dean, who was sitting next to her had observed her restlessness and watched as she left. He glanced at Sam who was unaware that Carter had left, his head bowed in memoriam to Pamela. Dean looked back in the direction that Carter had taken off to and quietly followed.

Carter returned to the Impala, emotion boiling over in the form of tears. She braced herself against the hood of the car and hung her head, the tears falling silently onto the metal beneath her. Angrily she clenched her fists and sat on the curb, the aforesaid anger quickly turning into exhaustion and helplessness. Not a word was spoken as Dean took a seat next to Carter on the curb. Carter looked at him, small tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. She hastily wiped them away almost ashamed that she was crying in front of him.

"I couldn't take it anymore. I've lost so...many friends... Many of them were caught in the crossfire, innocent people who got killed anyway. I've even lost my own family. Abandoned, branded a traitor by the people who were always supposed to love me and take care of me no matter what. I'm so alone and being back there just reminded me of it," Carter struggled to fight back more tears.

Dean somberly listened, recognizing the same feeling in himself.

"You're not, though. Me and Sam are right there with you, Carter," he said.  
"And how long is it going to be until you both are gone too?" she countered.

Dean sighed, "However long it takes for this business to catch up with us. We're not all going to be able to outrun it. That's the game we're playing. We knew that when we started. But I can tell you, as long as I'm breathing, I will never do what your brother did. You're not alone, Carter."

"Then why do I feel like it?" she rhetorically asked staring back down at the ground.

The next twenty minutes were filled with absolute silence as the two worldly hunters waited for the service to finish. Once Sam's footsteps could be heard, Dean tossed him his keys and clambered into the car. Carter and Sam followed suit with equal despondence. There was a dinner down the road for after the funeral, but Sam and Dean thought it best if they just went back to Wyoming. They both felt the same uneasiness Carter had been feeling, only now they were all ridden with sadness and guilt for Pamela's death.

The car ride back to the motel was even quieter than on the way there, but Carter didn't mind since the tension was no longer there. She welcomed the peace as she tiredly leaned her head against the cool glass. Not long after watching various headlights pass, Carter drifted off into a light sleep. It wasn't until an hour later when Dean himself had woken from a little slumber that Carter woke.

"I'm tired of burying friends, Sam," Dean said glancing out the window.  
"Look, we catch a fresh trail..."  
"And we follow it, I know. Like I said I'm just... I'm just getting tired," he finished, getting annoyed.  
"Well get angry," Sam said, mirroring Dean's annoyance.

Carter shifted in the backseat and the boys fell silent. She was about to ask how far away they were but her question was answered as Sam pulled into the lot of their new motel. Carter crawled out of the car and stretched her arms to the sky, only to stumble from getting up too fast. Dean had gotten out at the same time and caught her, before she fell into the side of the Impala.

"Watch it, you're going to dent my car," he reproached, taking his time setting her back up straight. She frowned at him, making him smirk.  
"Yeah, never mind me almost falling onto my bad shoulder," she said, swinging her bag out of the trunk, making sure to hit Dean. He let out a small "oof" and annoyingly grabbed his own duffle before following them into their room. Sam and Carter tossed their bags in a corner as Dean switched on the light.

"Ah, home crappy home," he chimed.

Carter rolled her eyes but then jumped from the sight of Uriel and Cas. Her sudden start was quickly replaced with mounting anger.

"Winchester, Winchester, and Augustine," Uriel greeted.  
"Oh, come on," Dean practically shouted.  
"You are needed," he flat out told them.  
"Needed? We just got back from needed!" Dean argued, stepping forward.  
"You mind your tone with me," Uriel pressed.

Carter, mirroring Dean's irritation, stepped forward as well, voicing her own opinion.

"You watch yourself with us!" she yelled as Dean was held back by Sam.  
"We just got back from Pamela's funeral," Sam told the angels.  
"Yeah, Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her? Cas, you remember her, you – you burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times. Yeah, then she died savin' one of your precious seals. So maybe you could stop pushin' us around like chess pieces for five freakin' minutes!" Dean bellowed.

"We raised you out of hell for our purposes," Uriel reminded them.  
"Good, then send me back. You'll want to after I stab you in the face you piece of..." Carter charged but was caught by Sam, who, at the moment, had the cooler head of the three hunters.

"Yeah and what were those purposes? What exactly do you want from us?" Dean continued.  
"You can start with gratitude," Uriel proffered.

Carter clenched her fist over Sam's sleeve fighting the urge to kick Uriel's ass for revealing her secret to Todd. Dean was about to say something but was cut off by Cas.

"Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," he said.  
"And we!" Uriel stared down Cas before turning back to the hunters, "Don't. Care."

Sam took Carter's hand down and gently pushed her behind him, away from the angels.

"Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed, tonight."

Carter's face scrunched into a curious look.

"Demons?" Dean asked, somewhat interested in what was killing the celestial beings.

Uriel didn't directly answer Dean's question but made a motion with his head that would lead the rest to assume that it was the demons. Carter had this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was telling her that it wasn't the demons killing the angels. But she held her tongue as Dean asked how they were doing it.

Sam bewilderingly looked at Uriel, "I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it? I mean a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be way out of our league, right?"

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," Uriel said.  
"Once we find whoever it is," Cas added.

Dean glanced between the two angels and took a few steps forward.

"So you need our help, hunting a demon?" he asked, slightly disbelieving his own words.

Carter had the sudden realization where this was going as Castiel explained that they had Alastair.

"Alastair's got a black belt in torture. You guys are way out of your league," Dean noted enjoying the angels road block.  
"That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got," Urield simply put.

Dean hung his head and Carter could practically see the emotion coursing through him.

"Dean, you're our best hope," Castiel insisted.

Carter forced her way past Sam and stood directly in front of Cas, not even bothering to pay any attention to Uriel.

"Do you even realize what you're asking him to do? Cas, this isn't right. You'd never ask him to do this," Carter pleaded, aware that the others were surprised to see her defending Dean.

Uriel smirked between her and Dean with a menacing glint in his eye.

"Who said anything, about asking?"

And in a flash Carter, Dean, and the two angels were standing in a rundown warehouse.


	10. Chapter 9

**I apologize for the delay! I had a serious burst in creativity for my next story and it was seriously the only thing I worked on.**

**The usual disclaimer applies...**

Carter was instantly throwing punches at Uriel screaming to send them back.

"You bastard! Let us out of here!" She shouted as she caught his jaw once before Dean pulled her off of him.  
"Carter, enough!" Dean held her away from the angel. Carter winced as she slipped her arm back into her sling and glared at the still smirking Uriel, completely unfazed by her blow.

"Dean," Castiel called near a door with a small glass window. Before going to him, Dean turned to face Carter and gently took her face between his hands.  
"Don't do anything you're going to regret," he ordered, tilting his head toward Uriel.

Castiel led Dean to the window of the door and Dean could see Alastair bound to an old sort of devil's trap. Carter watched them, wondering why she was brought here. She glanced at Uriel, anger mounting once again.

"Do you enjoy pissing people off?" she snapped.  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he played off.  
"Don't give me that crap. I saw you leaving. Todd said you told him what I did. What kind of an angel are you? He was going to kill me," Carter accused.

Uriel paid no heed to the fuming girl as Dean tried leaving.

"Angels are dying boy," Uriel said.

Carter clenched her fists and felt the presence of a gentler angel standing next to her.

"Everyone's dying these days. And hey I get it, you're all powerful and you can make me do anything. But you can't make me do this!" he yelled looking back to Cas.  
"This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it."

Carter watched as Dean curiously stared at Cas before telling Uriel he wanted to just talk to Cas. Carter's attention turned to the angel standing beside her.

"What's going on with you, Cas?" she softly asked, with no traces of her usual snide tone.  
"Yeah, since when do you let Uriel put you on a leash?" Dean smoothly asked striding over.

Castiel sighed, "My superiors have begun to question my sympathies."

Carter's face darkened, "You mean more angels like Uriel?"

He slightly nodded.

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge: you two," he continued heavily looking at Carter, almost making her feel uncomfortable, "They feel I have begun to show emotions, doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment."

"Your judgment? Or their judgment?" Carter pointed out. The angel gave her a stern look as if reprimanding her for questioning the motives behind the Lord's angels.

"Whatever, you can tell Uriel or whoever, you don't want me doing this. Trust me," Dean emphasized.

Carter glanced at him and could see the distraught written on his face.

"Want it? No. But I've been told we need it," Castiel replied.  
"Since when does God need torture?" Carter confusedly yelled as Dean moved off to the door behind which Alastair was strung up six ways from Sunday.  
"Cas, don't make him do this!" Carter cried, overcome with sudden strange emotion.  
"You ask me to open that door…and walk through it, you will not like what comes back out," Dean uttered, the torment clear in his voice.

"Dean!" Carter shouted, disbelieving he was giving in to the angel's request, "No, dammit stop!"

She yanked him by the arm aside from Castiel so he wouldn't hear. Carter could see the few tears sliding down his face.

"Don't _do _this, Dean. This is wrong, this is all wrong! They don't know what they're asking you. They don't _know_ what it's like," she pleaded, the feelings becoming stronger and manifesting themselves as tears.

"And neither do you," he said, jaw clenched and walked back to the door.

"For what it's worth…I would give anything for you not to do this," Castiel remarked before Dean passed through the door to gather his thoughts.

Carter watched him pass through the door, her emotions extremely dialed up. She fell into a corner and hung her head between her knees. Castiel's footsteps drew closer and Carter gazed up at him through watery eyes.

"What's going on, Cas? What's happening?" She asked, frightened by these intense feelings, "Why did you even bring me here?"

He bent down to her level with a sad look on his face.

"This was a test," he flatly said, just as screams could be heard from the other room. The emotions Carter was experiencing quickly turned into shear pain. The terrified girl grasped Castiel's shoulder as the pain overtook her and she slipped into unconsciousness, just as Alastair's scream could get no worse.

Carter was sent into a whirlwind back to her days in hell. She was in hell but she was viewing it as an outsider. She saw herself wandering and then being tortured. And then she saw the memory she wished she hadn't: the day Dean picked up a blade and began carving into her. Carter watched from the rack as Alastair approached Dean. His body was regenerated and she could see the exasperation in his face. Alastair grabbed Dean's face with his scaly brown hand and forced him to look up. There were tears in his eyes as he was released.

_"Dean…"_ she heard herself say as he solemnly approached to do his deed. Their eyes met. _"I'm sorry, Carter, but I have to,"_ he told her. Beyond Dean, Carter could visibly see the joy on Alastair's face. Her head dropped and tears fell and sizzled on the scalding ground. _"I know, Dean… it's ok."_ Carter's own screams filled her head as Dean mournfully dug the blade into her stomach.

The scene dissipated before her eyes and she was now back in the warehouse, still nothing but a ghost, listening to Dean and Alastair. Dean was back at his cart, preparing his next move as Alastair was gazing around the room.

"You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you," he posed.  
"Bring what on?" Dean asked, not really paying attention to the demon's antics.  
"Every night, the same offer, remember? The same as your father. And finally you said, 'Sign me up.' Oh, the first time you picked up my razor…the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch…that was the first seal."

Carter put her hand over her mouth in disbelief and Dean didn't know what to make of it. He slowly turned around and confronted Alastair.

"You're lying," Carter heard him quietly say.  
"And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break," Dean turned away from Alastair, deeply unsettled. More tears trickled down Carter's face as she stepped to face Dean, annoyed she was only a shadow.

"We had to break the first seal before any of the others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Top of the one at the front of the line," Alastair sighed and pondered," When we win...when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester."

Dean's eyes closed and Carter tried to put her hand on his face but it went right through. She curled her fingers and could only sympathetically gaze at him.

"Believe me, son. I wouldn't lie about that...It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me."  
"No," Dean started with tears welling in his eyes, "I don't think you are lying. But even if the demons do win, you won't be there to see it."

Dean turned and to his and Carter's surprise, Alastair was free.

"You ought to talk to your plumber about the pipes," he smirked, throwing a fist at Dean.  
"No!" Carter helplessly shouted as Alastair repeatedly punched Dean.

She felt a sudden hit on the head and she could feel herself materializing in the room. Using her gift, she threw Alastair off Dean with the flick of her hand.

"Castiel!" She screamed, hoping the angel could hear her. Her power wasn't strong enough to keep Alastair down and he redirected it back at her, sending her against the wall.

"Meddling brat," Alastair scoffed, ignoring Carter and grabbing Dean by the neck.

"You've got a lot to learn, boy. So I'll see you, back in class, Monday morning," the demon was interrupted by Cas and stabbed him with the knife. Alastair lost his hold on Carter and she hurried around the fighting bodies to an unconscious Dean. She lifted up his head and cradled him in her lap.

"Come on, Dean, wake up," she urged, checking to see if he was breathing. Disregarding the blood all over his face, she pressed her mouth on his and gave him CPR. To her relief, he gasped for air and slightly opened his eyes.

"Thank God. Stay awake for me, Dean," she crooned, nervously watching the fighting angel and demon.  
"Car-ter," he choked.

She looked down at him and stroked the side of his face with her thumb. The sound of Alastair beginning to chant a spell to send Castiel back to heaven caused Carter to stand up.

"Hey!" She yelled, painfully punching him with her bad arm.  
"You're more trouble than you're worth," he chided, ready to charge her but was forced back.

Carter, confused as to where the force came from, turned around to see Sam with his hand up, pushing Alastair against the wall. Carter crawled over to Cas and helped him stand up, warily watching as Sam tortured Alastair. Carter could feel the angry presence radiating from Sam as he choked the demon with only his mind. The angel and young girl shared the same uneasy look as Sam told Alastair he could kill demons. Carter's uneasy look turned into pure horror as the demon crumpled to the ground. She and Cas stared at Sam who avoided their gazes and ran to his brother.

Heart pounding and head reeling, Carter nervously sat in the hospital waiting room. She held her head in her hands as her brain wracked through the events of the night, not understanding one bit of it. Her shaking fingers raked through her long, brown hair when she noticed her hands were coated in blood. Carter's stomach began to turn, and she quickly walked up to the receptionist.

"W-where's the bathroom?" she stuttered.  
"Right down at the end of the hall on your left," the lady cheerily replied.

The shaken girl turned away thinking, _you work in the ER, how can you possibly be that happy?_

In the bathroom, Carter scrubbed the dried blood off her arms and hands and bathed her face in cold water. She gripped the edges of the sink until her knuckles turned white. Whenever she blinked, the scene in hell played back in her mind, the screams, the pain and Dean's razor. She wondered why she had all of a sudden remembered that memory, and why she felt such an intense connection to Dean as he went to torture the demon that deserved it the most. And why didn't she feel it now? As she opened her eyes once again, she saw Castiel staring back at her in the mirror behind her.

"Cas!" she gasped, spinning around to come face to face with the angel.  
"This is the _women's_ bathroom!" she continued, dragging him out into the hallway.  
"I needed to speak with you," he stoically answered.  
"You could've waited," she uneasily folded her arms.  
"This was urgent. What did you see?"  
"What do you mean?" she asked, eying up the angel.  
"At the warehouse! What did you see?" he repeated with impatience.

Carter frowned and unfolded her arms, looking down at her feet. A resident nurse passed by and quizzically gazed at the pair before passing into a nearby room. Cas gently took Carter's shoulder and led her away from the commotion of the hospital.

"I must know, Carter," he softly pressed.  
"I saw Dean released from the rack and torture me, ok?" she whispered, still gazing at the ground.  
"Are you sure that's it?"  
"Well I was in the room right before Alastair broke loose but that's it," she affirmed looking back up in the angel's eyes.

He stared back down at her for a minute before saying, "I must go."

As he briskly walked down the hall Carter remembered something.

"Cas! Wait!" she ran to catch up to him, "There's one more thing."  
"What is it?"  
"How can demons kill angels?" she asked.  
"What do you mean?" he answered thoroughly confused.  
"Well, I thought the only thing that can kill an angel is another angel."


	11. Chapter 10

**Lots of dialogue in this chapter and just to forewarn you, the subject matter gets a bit disturbing when Carter recounts her story. There's also a little glimpse inside Dean this chapter that I enjoyed writing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural related, only my OC's!**

* * *

"How is he?" Carter asked Sam a short while after her run-in with Cas.

The weary Sam offered Carter a weak smile. He had been monitoring Dean's condition since they arrived at the hospital over twelve hours ago.

"They've just taken him off a breathing tube. He was awake for a little while but he's sleeping now," Sam reported, a look of worry washing over his face.  
"He'll be ok, Sam. Don't forget he's got angels riding his shoulder," she tried to comfort but only made him scoff.

Sam sighed again and glanced back at Dean's room.

"Listen, could you watch him for a bit? I need to get some sleep but I don't want to leave him alone," Sam explained.  
"I don't..." Carter started but was cut off as Sam already started backing up.  
"Just for a couple hours, Carter. I'll be back before you know it," he rounded the corner, out of her sight.

She sighed and hesitantly gazed at the door before walking into Dean's room. The poor hunter, Carter saw, was in a terrible state. Carter uncomfortably sat in a chair next to his bed as she tried to ignore the dark bruises darkening his face.

She sighed.

Something was different inside her. Never, in her life…or death for that matter, has she ever been comfortable around a man. She may hate his guts, but Carter has noticed that when she's around Dean, she's more at peace than she has been in a long time.

_Why you? Of all people, why is it that you make me feel this way?_ She thought with her head cocked as she observed the sleeping hunter, _I mean, you torture me in hell, find any way possible to annoy me…but still…_

Carter's thoughts drifted off and she found herself inching herself closer to the bedside. When Dean's eyes fluttered open, she half-smirked, "What's up, Doc?"

"You know if you keep your face like that it'll get stuck that way," he remarked in a scratchy, throaty voice making Carter's smirk instantly fade. She dropped her head, a wave of guilt passing over her.

"I...tried..." she started but couldn't say anything else.

An almost deafening silence filled the room as question after question burned through their minds. Carter held her head low and Dean only watched.

"Can you tell me?" Dean finally broke the silence.

Carter raised her head, tired and confused. The two hunter's gazed in each other's beaten eyes. Carter took in a deep breath and recounted, in great detail, to Dean who she is.

"My mom was a big time hunter. Her family had been hunters for centuries dating God only knows how far. She was good, I've never met a better hunter than my mom," Carter praised, picturing her mother's beautiful face with a smile.

"My dad," she continued with disdain, "Was a hot shot lawyer fresh out of Harvard. He was unbeatable and got a big head about it too. Cocky s.o.b. had connections everywhere and his influence was felt all the way up to Congress. They met while my mom was on a hunt. All of his smack couldn't protect him from a poltergeist. Still, my mom fell head over heels for him. She soon got pregnant with Todd and was quick to uproot her life and move permanently on the east coast with her new fiancé. They got married just before Todd was born," she stopped there, thinking if they had just ended with Todd she wouldn't have had to deal with this crap in her life.

"Anyway...in the years before I was born, Todd became my dad's poster-child, teaching him everything about the business and how to con your way into the higher-class society. Things were going great for my dad until I was born. I was a mistake and not wanting to blame himself or my mother, I was blamed. And he never let me forget what a worthless mistake I was, even if I was just baby," she paused again to calm herself with another deep breath.

"After me, my mom started hunting again and teaching my brother and me. I was only five when I handled my own vengeful spirit for the first time. My mom spent more and more time with my brother and me and less with my father. We were gone for weeks on end, driving her attention away from him. Naturally, my dad couldn't blame Todd. He was the golden boy. And he loved my mom too much to get angry with her. He saved all of his anger for me."

"Sometimes when my mom would leave us home for a big hunt, my dad drank a lot. Other times he did it just for the pure fun of it. He would wail on me like he had nothing to lose. I was just a rag doll to him. I would scream my lungs out for Todd to come and help me, but he would just stand there or go into another room to ignore what my dad was doing to me. When my mom would get home, my dad convinced Todd not to say anything. When I would try to say something, they would just make up reasons to explain my injuries. Then I started growing up..."

Carter's body started shaking and the tears were welling up in her eyes.

"He..." Carter turned her head away from Dean, not able to look at him during this part of her story, "The f-first time he...touched me...I was only eight years old. He had been drinking again so I had gone to bed early. But he crept into my room and woke me up. And he pinned me d-down...I screamed so hard and tried to get away...It became a regular occurrence, even without the alcohol..." the tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she relived the past.

She finally looked back at Dean.

"I never did anything. Not one thing, y'know? I mean I tried, I really did. I acted just how Todd did, I listened, I was obedient but he still did those things."

Carter wiped away her tears, to try and compose herself only partially succeeding.

"I went through two more years of that crap before I took matters into my own hands. I had read in my mom's books about crossroads demons and I learned how to summon one. I figured any amount of time I could get without living in fear would be worth it. The demon dealt me four years to kill my dad, just him. I thought that my mom was only being tricked and Todd was only obeying orders. I heard the hell hounds rip my dad to shreds, and I was so happy that he was finally gone," Carter shook her head, tears still swimming in her eyes.

"But I was so wrong about everything. I didn't live without fear. I was terrified of every man I met, even boys my own age. To me, they were like wild animals that would lash out at any moment. It didn't matter that I had hunted demons, werewolves, and vampires...men scared the living hell out of me. And Todd and my mom could care less. They both had just pretended nothing had happened. Todd was deluded for so long that he actually believed that my dad never abused me. And my mom thought that if she ignored it enough it would all just go away. After I realized this, I prayed for my four years to end. I wanted to die so bad that when the hell hounds finally came for me, I didn't feel any pain. I swung my front door wide open and let them take me," she finished choking back more tears and burying her face in her hands.

Dean, during this entire story was an intent listener. Before now, Dean had literally known nothing about the young girl in front of him but now it seemed like he knows everything. When he had heard Todd accusing his sister of killing their father, Dean thought he would've been disgusted and angry to hear her tell her side. He realized now just how terrified and forever scarred that girl will be for the rest of her life because of the day her father crossed the line.

"Carter..."  
"Don't," she stopped him taking her hands away from her face, "Everybody is always sorry. Doesn't change what happened."

Carter drew her hair back into a ponytail, revealing all features of her face. For the first time, Dean really saw how exhausted her face looked. Her face was pale and her eyes had dark circles beneath them, making her seem almost as gaunt as he looked. There were bruises that were starting to fade but were still reminders of the fights with Todd and Alastair. And yet...there was just something about her that was so hauntingly stunning.

"Besides, you have nothing to be sorry for," she looked at him, seeing the pain in his face.  
"How can you say that?" he whispered, tears now forming in his own eyes.  
"You remember," he pointed out much to Carter's surprise.  
"Just like you could tell when I found out, I can see in your eyes some kind of disgust. I know you remember," he repeated the tears now rolling down his battered cheeks, "After what I did to you...after how I felt d-doing it...Carter I can't even begin to tell you h-how sorry I am."

Carter sighed, tears still welled in her eyes, and sat on the edge of the bed next to Dean. He curiously watched her move.

"I know, Dean...it's ok."

She took his large hand and gently stroked it with her thumb. The moment she grasped his hand, Dean was instantly relaxed. He sighed in peace and let his head fall back onto his pillow. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Carter's soft hands on his own.

There was something about this girl that Dean couldn't shake. It wasn't a bad feeling, just something that had bothered Dean when he first met her back in New York. Whenever she was around, Dean felt responsible for her, in a way that he had never felt for Sam. The feeling of familiarity didn't stop from just torturing her in hell, it was something more. Dean just couldn't figure it out. Carter was so shrouded in mystery and it pissed him off that he couldn't figure her out. His thoughts soon led him into an uneasy dream about hell.

_As the pain became too great, Dean could feel his body being regenerated. With screams echoing all around him he took great deep breaths of air and relaxed, if only for a moment. His head throbbed and the stinking smell of hell engulfed his nostrils.__ He was so tired. Alastair's scaly, brown hand pinched his cheeks and forced the worn hunter to look at him. _

_"Why, Dean, you look tired," he growled in his menacing voice. Alastair threw Dean's head back into the rack and turned his back on him.  
__"Same offer, Dean," he looked back at him with his evil black eyes. _

_Dean looked down not saying a word._

_"I could always go back to your father. I'm sure he would just love to have me holding the razor above his head. Oh how I enjoyed listening to his screams," he taunted pointing far down the rack, where John Winchester was supposedly held. _

_Dean gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, fighting back tears._

_"Better yet...I could go back to _her_," Alastair had hit a nerve. Dean finally lifted his head and glared menacingly back at the demon.  
__"She's a tough one to break, I've got to say," Alastair continued seeing his mind games were beginning to work, "Got a lot of feistiness in her...a lot of spunk. Not to worry, though, I always find a way to break 'em. Little miss cheek is no different...it'll just take a little more tweaking and prodding...and ripping," he hissed in Dean's ear. _

_"You son of a bitch! You stay away from her!" he yelled fighting against his restraints._

_A nearby demon threw Dean back against the rack, silencing him once again. Alastair merely let out a low cackle that sent chills down Dean's spine. Dean knew that Alastair had him. _

_"It's my realm, Dean, I'll do what I please. Even that little brat of yours..."  
__"You touch her and I swear to God-"  
__"You disappoint me, Dean. I would've thought you would have given up on God a long time ago," he mocked once again, "Too bad, I was willing to make a bargain with you if you had said yes."_

_Alastair turned away from the hunter once again, a sinister smirk playing his lips as he could sense Dean truly debating the idea._

_"I'll do it," Dean said after a few more minutes. _

_Alastair's smirk grew so wicked it would've scared God himself._

_Dean could no longer hold back the tears. They came thundering down his cheeks and kept coming. He heard Alastair give the order to release him and he came crashing to the ground as his shackles were removed around his wrists. Alastair hauled him painfully to his feet._

_"Let's get started, boy, I have just the perfect victim for you to start with," he joyously said, leading Dean a short ways down the rack past multiple shrieking souls. Alastair stopped and once Dean realized who he was to torture, he tried turning back. _

_"Ah, ah, ah. If you want to save little Augustine from my blade, you must first introduce her to yours," the demon spun him back around, slipping a razor into his hand. _

_At that moment, Dean had a strong urge to turn around and stab Alastair, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Dean stared at Carter's small form a while before solemnly stepping forward. She looked up and their eyes met. _

_"Dean..." she breathed._

_Inside his head, he was absolutely screaming at himself to drop the blade and get back on the rack, but he kept walking forward. _

_"I'm sorry, Carter, but I have to," he whispered. He saw her drop her head and saw the tears fall to the ground.  
__"I know, Dean...it's ok," she softly spoke, bracing herself for another onslaught of pain. _

_Anger elated Dean's senses. Anger for himself for giving in, for Carter for making him feel guilty, for Alastair for forcing him to do this, for Sam for not saving him from hell, and for his father for all the years of hunting and disappearing and leaving when he needed him most. All that anger coursed through Dean and he found it scarily easy to dig the blade into Carter's stomach. Not long after that, he quickly discovered it was the perfect release for his anger, and he liked it. Carter's screams and pleas to stop soon fell on deaf ears. Dean Winchester had flipped and couldn't fix the seal he had just broken. _

Dean's eyes snapped open and he barely heard himself whisper Carter's name. His eyes roved around the room searching for her, but she was long gone. He took in a labored deep breath, settling back into his bed. Everything on his body ached and he felt so heavy. Soon, Dean began to wonder if what he had dreamt was his actual memory or if it really was just a dream. Things ran together so much in hell, he didn't know what he imagined and what actually happened. If his dream really was a memory, he knew Carter well before he flipped.

"Are you all right?"

Dean looked in the chair to his left, which seconds before was empty but was currently occupied by Castiel. Looking at the angel for a moment, Dean held his tongue for what he really wanted to say.

"No thanks to you," he remarked, turning his head away.

Cas moved uneasily on his chair, "You need to be more careful."

"You need to learn how to manage your damn devil's trap," Dean derided, frustration mounting even in his extreme pain.  
"That's not what I meant," the angel replied, "Uriel is dead."

A pit in Dean's stomach dropped, and he looked at Cas to see his reaction.

"Was it the demons?" Dean asked.  
"Disobedience," Castiel turned to look at Dean, "He was working against us."

There was a small pause and Dean forgot about his dream about Carter and remembered what Alastair had told him.

"Is it true?" he eventually asked, part of him hoping it was just another lie.  
"Did I break the first seal...Did I start all this?"

Castiel gazed back at him, wondering when he found out.

"Yes," he said.

Dean's body froze as he couldn't look away from Cas. He heard the word but he couldn't believe it. When it finally hit him, he looked away, emotion ready to boil over.

"When we discovered Lilith's plan for you...we laid siege to hell. And we fought our way to get to you before you—"  
"Jump-started the apocalypse," Dean choked.  
"And we were too late," he solemnly finished, the guilt creeping in.

A thousand new thoughts ran through Dean's head and for the first time in a long time, he wished he was back in hell, torturing souls.

"Why didn't you just leave me there then?" he choked, resentment mounting.  
"It's not blame that falls on you, Dean...It's fate. 'The righteous man who begins it...is the only man who can finish it. And the one sacrificed holds the path to redemption,'...You have to stop it, and Carter can show you how," he revealed.

"Lucifer...the apocalypse," Dean was shaking and the corners of his eyes burned with tears, "...What does that mean?"

Castiel shook his head, looking towards the door.

"Hey! Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?" he croaked.  
"I don't know," Castiel couldn't meet Dean's eye.  
"Bull!" he fumed.  
"I don't," he turned, "Dean, they don't tell me much. I know that our fate rests with you."  
"Well then you guys are screwed," he whispered, "I can't do it, Cas...it's too big. Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not str...I'm not strong enough."

Dean fought the tears as hard as he could but he couldn't stop thinking about how big of a screw-up and how big of a disappointment he was to everybody. The angel's, Cas, Sam, Carter.

"Well I guess I'm not the man either of our father's wanted me to be," he noted, few tears trickling down his face, "Find someone else...it's not me."

Dean turned his teary face away from Castiel as the angel stood. Dean couldn't handle letting the angel see him cry.

Castiel was only a few steps outside Dean's room when he looked to his right to see Carter slumped against the wall with a frightened hand covering her mouth and tears pooled in her eyes. She had heard every word and could not believe it. Cas could barely tolerate Dean, but seeing Carter sitting there...he vanished before she could say anything. Slightly shaking herself, Carter clambered to her feet with the support of the wall.

She had left Dean yesterday when Sam returned. She was trading places with Sam again today when Castiel appeared and told them that Uriel was the cause of the angel murders. He also revealed that Uriel released Alastair in hopes that he would kill Dean. Uriel also told Todd of her past so that Todd may kill her as well. Upon hearing this news, Carter hurried to Dean's room to check on him. Before she reached the door, however, she heard Cas' voice inside the room. As she listened more and more, she sank to the ground disbelieving every word.

Carter gazed up into the light and quickly wiped her face with her sleeve. She moved into the doorway and slid to the wall where she stayed, not sure if Dean wanted her in there or not. It took everything in Carter not to cry again when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"I just..." she couldn't find the right words to say.

Dean finally noticed her and his dream flooded back into his memory. He pushed it aside when he realized she had heard Cas and what he was talking about. He turned his head away, feeling himself beginning to cry again. He wanted her to go, but a part of him desperately wanted someone there. Dean heard her move closer.

Risking a harsh insult and her comfort, Carter sat next to Dean on the bed and swung her legs up. She turned her upper body toward him, as he looked at her. He wasn't holding the tears back now and he closed his eyes as he felt Carter's slender fingers wipe away the ones lingering on his face. He couldn't hate her, not now.

"Angels really are dicks," she quietly spoke, a single tear falling down her cheek.

Had Dean not been so miserable, he would've chuckled. Instead, he placed his arms around her as she lay down beside him and set her head on his chest. They were in similar positions dictated by fate as the angels would say. And both couldn't help but think, _screw fate._


	12. Chapter 11

**Hooray for updates! These next two are kind of fun for me.**

**Usual Disclaimer Here**

* * *

"Sam, I can't do this," Carter's voice complained from the bathroom of the motel room in Cheyenne.

The younger Winchester chuckled, straightening his bowtie and smoothing out his tux. Amused, he walked around by the bathroom, patiently waiting for Carter to come out.

"It can't be _that_ bad, Carter. I mean you tried it on at the store, right?" he asked.  
"It's not the dress that I'm worried about. It's what the dress exposes," she confessed, shyly opening the bathroom door.

Sam's eyes slightly widened and he straightened up when he set eyes on Carter in that dress; a short, pale-orange dress that had a crossed back leaving much of it open and the front dipped into a v-shaped cut and was scrunched into folds at the bust. Carter couldn't stop fidgeting as Sam gave her a once-over. She looked down at herself not seeing what Sam was seeing. All she could pay attention to was her various scars, particularly the faded glossy hand print on her left shoulder from Castiel and the symbol tattooed into her chest to prevent her from being possessed by demons.

"Sam, I have all these marks on me and I have this stupid brace around my wrist. I look like a tool," she remarked.

Sam laughed, "What did you just call yourself?"

She tried to hold back a smile, "I couldn't think of anything else. Do I really have to do this?"

Sam pulled out a chair for her, in which she moodily sat down.

"Sit down, I'll cover them up for you," he ordered disappearing in the bathroom only to reappear with what almost looked like stage makeup or very close to it.  
"I still don't want to do this," she mumbled, making Sam chuckle again.  
"You look fine, trust me," he assured, stealing one more glance at her before he began to cover the hand print.  
"I _do_. It's the rest of the male population that I don't trust," she countered, chills running down her arm from Sam's touch.  
"I'll be with you the entire time. I won't leave your side, I promise," he reminded her.

She still sighed and gazed down at the tattoo.

"I'm pretty sure makeup won't cover up this," she said slightly pulling her dress aside to reveal the entire tat.  
"Honestly, Carter, it won't matter. It's actually pretty sexy," he immediately looked down, regretting he said it as his ears turned red.

Carter, upon hearing Sam's remark, tensed up a bit but wasn't angry. She watched him for a second and looked back at the symbol and smirked a little bit. Once Sam noticed she wasn't uncomfortable he looked back up at her.

"Are we going to see Dean before we go?" she casually asked.

Sam stopped and curiously watched her, "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, "Just curious. Maybe we can get an update from the doctor about when he'll be cleared to leave. I mean it's been two weeks. And I really want to get out of this town, I'm bored."

"Well that's why we're doing this. It's a possible case," he reminded her, putting the makeup away.

Carter made a goofy face that Sam saw through the mirror as he strolled out of the bathroom.

"What is that for?" he laughed.  
"I just wouldn't get your hopes up for this case. It seems kind of sketchy to me," she explained.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Still worth a shot, a couple people have died recently."

This time Carter shrugged while standing and giving a shudder. Sam noticed her chill and pulled out a large tan overcoat from one of his many disguises. He draped it over her shoulders and she gladly stuck her arms through. With a small chuckle, she looked down at her small figure in the oversized coat.

She wildly waved her hands around speaking in a fake, deep voice, "Mwrah! I'm an angel and God needs your help but I'm not going to tell you why!"

Laughing like mad, the two hunters merrily traveled to the hospital.

Sam walked into Dean's room followed by Carter; the girl noticing Dean's eyes lingered on her a tad bit longer. Ignoring him, she pulled off the coat and tossed it in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Look, it's Cocktail Barbie," Dean chided with a smirk.

Carter threw him a nasty glare.

"So where are you two off to tonight?" Dean asked with his usual snarky demeanor, his health clearly better.  
"We're looking into a case," Sam calmly replied.  
"So...what are you two going as? Newlyweds?" Dean strangely asked.  
"What's it to you?" Carter fiercely shot at him.

A slow grin spread across Dean's face.

"You are, aren't you?" he beamed.

Sam rolled his eyes and took off his jacket.

"I'll be back, I have to run to the bathroom real quick," he announced, leaving the room.

Carter sighed, annoyed that she was once again being left alone with Dean. Out of the corner of her eye, Carter noticed Dean looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Dean was indeed looking at her but not in the way Carter thought he was. His eyes were focused on the scars that makeup didn't hide. It was as if they were hard proof of Carter's past. It made it more real for Dean and he couldn't believe that something so horrible could happen to such a young girl.

"Can you stop staring at me," she finally said.

Dean blinked and then rolled his eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, I wasn't looking at you like that," he scorned.

She frowned and folded her arms across her chest anyway. Dean nonchalantly folded his arms behind his head.

"What's going on between you and my brother?" he nosily asked.

Carter furrowed her eyebrow, "What makes you think there's something going on?"

"You two have spent a lot of time together," he remarked pointing to the dress she was wearing.  
"You're in the hospital. What the hell are we supposed to do?" she scoffed.  
"Just make sure you leave my brother alone," he ordered.

Carter threw up her arms grumbling just as Sam came back.

"Good news, Dean. I just ran into your doctor. He said that they're going to keep you overnight for further observation and then release you tomorrow morning if everything goes well," Sam beamed.

"Oh wonderful," Carter derided pulling her coat back on.  
"Ignore her. This is good news, you can start hunting again. We can start protecting the seals," Sam added.

Dean made a noise of repugnance," Yeah, maybe I can just stop the apocalypse. And Barbie here can teach me how. Sorry, Sammy, I don't buy into that load of crap."

Sam sighed and grabbed his jacket as well and left the room. Carter stayed behind, thoroughly annoyed by Dean's comment.

"You know, this isn't just a walk in the park for me either. I don't like this just as much as you don't," she objected.  
"Oh I'm sure," he cynically derided.  
"You know what? _Fuck_ you, Dean!"

He was startled quiet. He hadn't heard her use that kind of language, at least not directed at him or with such malice.

"You know, I don't know what the _hell _the angels want me for and I don't know how the _fuck_ I'm supposed to help a sorry sack like you stop the apocalypse! Screw the angels, I don't believe in that shit. But I do believe that people need my help. So I'm not going to just lie down like a fucking _child_! I'm going to save as many people as I can! Enjoy your night, _Lancelot_," she jeered, seething with anger as she left the room.

Sam quickly took notice of Carter's mood and was silent until they got in the Impala.

"So what's wrong?"  
"Nothing, your brother is just an insensitive jerk!" she practically yelled.

He sighed, knowing that if he tried defending either one of them it would start something massive.

"Just try to ignore him, Carter. I know Dean is frustrating, believe me. We've all been through a lot, let's try to focus on this case," he advised.

Carter took a deep breath, relaxing as she exhaled.

"Ok. Tell me about this place again," she said, voice still lined with anger but she appeared much more calm.  
"St Mark's Episcopal Church. Uh in the past week three employees have died from mysterious conditions. All three were perfectly healthy and then boom, dead," he retold.  
"That's all we have to go on?" Carter asked, still not impressed.

"Well I checked into the history of the place and found something pretty interesting. The church was established in 1868 and in 1886 construction on a large memorial bell tower began. It was during this time that two Swedish stonemasons vanished and construction was halted until 1926. Even during that time, construction was off and on because workers complained that a ghostly figure haunted the tower. So, they ended up building an extra room in the tower just for the ghost's use," he explained.

"Alright well that's the ghost story but it sounds like it never hurt anyone before. Why now?" she questioned.  
"Turns out that they started renovating the place about two weeks ago. And it was about a week ago when they stumbled upon the secret room," he insinuated

"So you're thinking that the renovations disturbed a spirit that was at rest and now it's pissed and is killing people. Interesting theory. Now tell me, why did we have to dress up?" Carter asked, still confused about that part of this whole case.

"Tonight is the anniversary of the completion of the bell tower. The parishioners have decided to celebrate with a formal dinner. We are Sam and Carter Morgan, newlyweds from Tucson who thought this would be the perfect way to get to know everyone in town," he smiled turning into the church's parking lot.

Carter nodded, impressed with Sam's knowledge. Upon getting out of the car, Sam held out his arm, which Carter gladly accepted to play the part. Stepping through the large red, wooden doors, the hunters found the party. They soon realize they had missed the dinner but made it in time for the dancing afterwards. In the corner, a small orchestra was playing classical music to dance to while waiters walked around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne.

"Do you mind?" Sam carefully asked, placing his arm around Carter's waist.

She shook her head and placed her arm around his back, smiling at the faces around her. Carter had gotten used to putting on a happy face when she was, in fact, extremely uncomfortable and nervous on the inside. A few times she glanced at Sam seeing if he had noticed, but he went on completely unaware, smiling and introducing himself to fellow partygoers. As a waiter with a tray of champagne passed Carter, she nimbly snatched a glass and took a swig of the golden, bubbling liquid before the young man even noticed. Sam surprisingly looked at her as she downed the glass and grabbed another.

"I thought you don't drink?" he questioned, watching as the second glass was emptied.  
"Doesn't mean I won't on occasion," she smirked and set the empty flute down on a table as she recognized the leader of the church, Father Rick, approach the two.

"I don't believe I've seen your faces around the church before," he politely recognized with a smile.

Sam and Carter returned equally genuine smiles.

"Please excuse our manners for not introducing ourselves sooner. We've just moved into town from Tucson. I'm Sam Morgan and this is my wife Carter. We thought this would be a great way to get to know the people in town," Sam courteously explained.

"Married and so young! Still, welcome to Cheyenne. It's wonderful to have young people take such a keen interest in God," he beamed.

Carter laughed at the irony in his statement, "It's so true, Padre," Sam looked at her suddenly noticing that Dean also uses Padre when referring to clergymen, "I feel like I was placed on this great earth to do the work of God and his angels," she dramatically played out, the Father believing every word of it.

Carter finished her third champagne, "Please excuse me, gentlemen, while I use the restroom.

Carter placed her hand on Sam's chest and kissed him on the cheek, artfully pick-pocketing the EMF detector from the inside of his jacket. As she walked away, the stunned Sam cleared his throat and began conversing with the reverend about the recent deaths.

* * *

**I like visuals...especially when I'm terrible at describing dresses so I have a link to what Carter's dress looks like if you're interested. Just let me know via Review or PM. Either way is fine. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Summer classes are such a bore, I don't recommend them if you can avoid them. I'm just ambitious and wanted to jumpstart my degree...anyway it's hard to think about new plots when my mind is filled with debits, credits, and fiscal and monetary policy. So don't expect updates to be as frequent as they've been. Just a forewarning...**

**Usual Disclaimer Applies... **

* * *

Carter cleverly escaped the crowd of people and ducked under the rope blocking off the bell tower. She pulled out the EMF meter, noted the small base reading, and set to work, slowly making her way up the staircase. Ascending the stairs, Carter could feel the air becoming thinner and moister. So much, she could see water on the stone walls. Minutes later she reached the top and quietly observed the slightly rusting bell. Glancing back down at the EMF, she grew frustrated seeing that it had not spiked once.

With a little further investigation, Carter stumbled upon the secret room that was supposedly built for the exclusive use of a ghostly resident. Ignoring the bright, yellow police tape, Carter unyieldingly strolled into the ancient room. Dust covered almost every inch and made Carter sneeze almost every time she took a step. Covering the edges of the room, she discovered a staircase leading down. However, as she was about to make a descent, a strong musty odor filled her nostrils. That smell keyed Carter in on what was really going on here.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere. Where've you been?" Sam worriedly asked later when Carter returned from the bell tower.  
"I went to check out the bell tower. I'm not totally buzzed you know," she said smiling and placing the EMF meter back into his coat.

He watched her, laughing at the fact he didn't even notice that the device was missing.

"You are quite the hunter, Carter," he complimented smoothing down his coat.  
"Thanks. So listen I'm pretty positive this case is a bust," she started becoming serious again.  
"Why's that?" he asked leading her to mingle with his hand on the small of her back.  
"I swept the entire bell tower and picked up nothing. Not a single spike. Not even in the 'panic room,'" she elucidated, letting out some of her frustration.  
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," Sam countered, stopping them by the large setup of appetizers.

Carter held up her finger with a clever smile.

"Ah, but I wasn't finished. Did you find out more about the guys who passed away?"  
"Yeah."  
"And let me guess. At some point during the day they experienced respiratory problems that grew worse when they traveled up the tower?" Sam nodded, "And then later on in the day, their eyes grew blood red and they began coughing up blood?" he nodded again shocked she knew all this information, "Finally during the autopsy the doctor noticed that their lungs were practically nonexistent?"

"How do you know all of this?" he asked greatly confused.  
"Before I even got to the top of the tower I noticed the entire place was incredibly moist. It made it ridiculous to breathe. It got so moist that there were actual water droplets on the walls. Then when I was in the ghost room, the most awful smell hit me. Do you know what that smell was?" she asked knowing very well that he didn't know.

He shook his head with a slight smirk at her game.

"It smelled like an old lady's body that had been left in a sewer. Pretty much the smell of black mold," she smiled.  
"Nice, depiction. So, black mold?" he laughed.  
"Yeah," she returned the smile, grabbing another flute of the golden, bitter-sweet liquid.

"Basically, it's a really nasty fungus that grows in consistently moist areas, our bell tower for example, and it appears in any crack or crevice it can. There are traces of it everywhere in that room up there. So, the mold is primarily contained in the room until they bust it open and now the mold has more room to expand. Now, the longer these renovators work the more they are exposed to this fungus. It causes headaches, respiratory problems, dizziness, the usual. And in severe cases dementia, the bursting of blood vessels especially in the eyes, nose, and lungs, and death, which is exactly what happened to the poor fellows," she finished with a salute of her glass and downed it.

Sam nodded his head with approval and finished his own champagne.

"So, I don't know about you but I want to stay a little longer and ride this party out," she set her glass down.

Sam followed suit, smiling as the orchestra began playing a new beautiful song.

"Care to dance?" he offered his hand to Carter in dramatic fashion.

Hesitantly glancing at it, she smiled and took hold. He swiftly led her onto the dance floor and placed his left hand on her back.

"I gotta warn you," she said, nervously looking up at him, "I have never really danced like this before. I was only fourteen."

Sam smiled bringing her a little closer to him. She stumbled forward and grasped his right hand with her left.

"Don't worry, just follow my lead," he reassured, lightly squeezing her hand.

After a few initial stumbles, Carter got the hang of it and put enough trust into Sam to let him lead her around the room. Once she was used to it, she relaxed and let Sam twirl her around. Carter's mind felt calm as she had a great time with the young Winchester. She thought nothing about Dean, hell, or the angels. The band soon slowed the tempo and the undercover hunters paused.

Sam looked down at the striking girl in his arms. He liked her, but there was something that bothered him. He couldn't quite place it. Still, she was just standing there looking so beautiful, wondering if they were done dancing. He knew she was having as good of a time as he was, he could tell by how she smiled and laughed when he spun her around.

"Is this ok?" he asked, sliding his hand down to her lower back.

He felt her tense up but she nodded nonetheless. Sam leisurely brought her arms around his neck, bringing them so close their bodies were pressed tightly together.

Carter's breath became shallow, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. So many images flashed before her mind when suddenly she felt herself moving and she was instantly brought back into the now. Carter glanced up at Sam and he smiled down at her. His smile brought her peace and a newfound confidence. Instead of tensing at his touch, she relished in it and laid her head against his chest. Her eyes closed and she simply listened to the music as Sam swayed them back and forth.

At the end of the song, Sam dipped Carter back and low, making her laugh once again. When he brought her back up, their eyes met. Carter could sense what was coming but her legs were locked in place. She found herself, though, standing taller as Sam loomed in closer. A shiver gripped her as his lips brushed against her cheek. He pulled back and looked at her a moment before pressing his lips against hers. A shock was sent down her spine when he made the connection. On the inside, she was shaking like mad, not from fear but from a certain thrill she got when she kissed him.

They were together for what Carter thought was ages but was only a moment. He pulled away looking for her reaction. She looked up at him and looked down with a shy, nervous smile. He returned the smile and brought her chin up so she looked at him. Sam laughed when she unexpectedly gave a large yawn.

"Maybe we should get you back home, huh?" he suggested.

She nodded with another yawn, pulling her heels off her tired feet. Seeing that Carter was wavering on her feet, Sam scooped her up into his arms before she took a step.

"I think all those drinks are beginning to affect you, Carter," Sam chuckled, taking her shoes from her so that she could hang onto him.  
"I think you're right," she mused with a goofy smile, causing Sam to laugh again.

Sam walked her out to the car, where he carefully set her in the seat and buckled her up. Before he shut the door, though, she caught his sleeve.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" she asked, a little worried and a little drunk.

Sam frowned and grasped her hand, "Not a chance, Carter."

Somehow, Carter didn't feel reassured.

"I shouldn't have drunk, I had too many drinks, stop me next time kay? You'll stop me right? I don't want to drink again. I'm never drinking again," Carter raved on the car ride home.

Sam listened, amused by her rambling. She was still going on as Sam pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

"We're here, Carter," he announced.

She fell silent almost instantly, eyes laden with sleep. Carter let out a great big yawn and wrapped her arms around Sam as he pulled her out of the car to carry her back into the room smiling. He kicked the door open, and his joyous smile slowly faded as he saw Dean casually lying on his bed with his arms carelessly behind his head. Dean eyed up his brother with Carter for a moment before looking back at the TV.

"What are you doing here? I thought they wanted you overnight for observation?" Sam asked, a little startled that his brother was back already.  
"Well, Sammy, they let me out on good behavior," Dean smirked, "Sorry to spoil the lovely evening you two seem to be having."

Carter didn't have to hear his voice to know that he was there. The moment Sam opened the door Carter could feel Dean's calming presence. Carter feigned sleep, as Sam softly lay her down on her bed.

"Is she drunk?" Dean amusedly asked.  
"Not as bad as it seems," Sam replied, pulling the blanket over Carter, still irked about Dean interrupting his time with her.  
"What's going on, Sam?" Dean sternly asked, flicking his eyes in the direction of the seemingly sleeping Carter.  
"Nothing, Dean. Why do you always assume something's going on?" Sam challenged.

There was a pause as the brother's stared at each other, looks of irritation written on both their faces. Carter rolled onto her stomach, hoping to break up the tense silence.

"Whatever, I'm taking a shower," Sam finally said, vanishing into the bathroom.

Carter heard Dean sigh, and she opened her eyes to instantly meet with his hazel-green ones. He knew she was awake and wasn't surprised when she caught him looking at her. He turned away from her, not at all bothered.

"He kissed me," Carter quietly said after a little while, forgetting that she was even angry with him.

Dean gazed at her quietly, his face unreadable.

"I've never..." she sighed, "I don't want it to happen again," she sat up.  
"Then why did you let him?" Dean asked.

Carter gazed at him a moment, "I don't have to explain myself to you," she said, not at all trying to be irritating.

Dean frowned and snorted.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just don't think you'd understand, Dean," she said right out.  
"How would you know? I'm more compassionate than you think," he challenged.

She crossed her arms and furrowed her eyebrow. He rolled his eyes.

"Can you help me?" she asked, turning her back to him and pointing to her zipper.  
"You want _me_ to unzip your dress?" he incredulously inquired.  
"Just unzip. It's not going to fall off, I have it tied around my neck," she warned.

She sat on the edge of the bed and he sat up straight, slowly unzipping her dress so as not to snag the fabric. As the zipper slid down, more of Carter's scars became apparent. When Dean reached the bottom, the top of her lacy black panties was clearly visible. Dean's eyes were drawn in like magnets. He thumbed the top of her underwear, slowly and methodically working his way up her back and over her scars. The chills running down her spine informed him that she wasn't moving any time soon.

Carter was seized by an unfamiliar feeling. It was different than the confidence and shocking sensation she felt when Sam held her. She felt safe and at ease. She found herself in a strange territory: she wanted more. Dean's touch was so blissful, it scared her, but she could not bring herself to stand up as his fingertips danced lightly over the pearly handprint on the back of her shoulder. More chills sped down her back as she felt him move closer, to the point that she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck.

_Maybe_, she thought, _maybe it's just the champagne_.

His fingers pressed a little harder as his want for her closeness increased.

_Oh God, maybe not_.

Dean glided his hand up her back, stopping just before the angelic print. Angling her body towards him, she gazed into his eyes. In them, she no longer saw that sad look he had when he realized it was her he tortured first in hell. It was replaced by a different look, something that was familiar to her but she couldn't quite place what it was.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck as she turned her body. Dean brushed his hand over the side of her face and tucked her hair gently behind her ear. He faintly cocked his head, bringing his face only inches from hers. Carter felt the fingers of his other hand press tightly into the soft skin on her now bare back. Impulsively, Carter slid her hand up his leg and on his chest. She wanted his intimacy just as much as he wanted hers.

"And, what about me?" He whispered almost on auto-pilot.  
"What about you?" she asked in the same way.  
"Would you mind if I kissed you?" he quietly asked tenderly bringing her forward with his hand on the back of her head, intermingling with her long brown hair. She smirked, snaking her hands up and under his shirt, taking in every feel of muscle. This time Carter sent chills up Dean's back. He responded only by slowly coming in for the kiss.

Their lips just grazed each other when the bathroom door slammed open. Carter immediately jumped up from the bed with her slender fingertips pressed against her lips. Dean fell back upon his pillow and pretended to be watching TV. Sam came out toweling his hair, completely unaware of what had almost occurred between Dean and Carter.


	14. Chapter 13

**Hmmm, two in one day...enjoy.**

* * *

Carter awoke early the next morning lying on her stomach, unsure that what had happened last night, actually happened. Her eyes darted to Dean's bed. He was there, soundly sleeping on his back with one arm draped lazily over his chest and the other snuggly under his head. Slightly lifting her head and gazing behind her, Carter could see Sam sleeping, awkwardly positioned in the armchair. Carter frustratingly slammed the pillow over her head trying to puzzle things together.

_Did I really kiss Sam?_ She focused, tightly closing her eyes. She distinctly remembered the case and the mold and the dancing. _Yes, I did. I know for sure,_ she silently concluded.

But what of her conversation with Dean? Did all that happen? Or...had she merely fallen asleep? And the way his fingers touched her skin...all that had seemed so real. She was so sure that could not have all been in her head.

"Suffocating yourself seems hardly the ideal way to go back to hell," a surly voice broke up her thoughts.

She removed the pillow and turned her head towards Dean. The feeling of his fingertips grazing her skin was so prominent in her mind as her eyes scanned the features of his face and the definition beneath his shirt. Luckily he had been gazing up at the ceiling and not paying attention to Carter's once-over of him.

"What happened last night?" Carter asked, voice ridden with concern she was unable to suppress.

Dean tore his eyes away from the ceiling and looked at her, sort of startled by her sense of uneasiness.

"Sam brought you in late last night, said that you were drunk. He took a shower, you said some things, and fell back asleep," he explained, leaving no hint of doubt.

Carter sighed and sat up. She noticed she was still wearing her dress from last night. She felt the back and it was fully secure and zipped up. Dean curiously watched her, not knowing how, but seeing that something was wrong.

"You alright, Barbie?"

She slightly jumped at the sound of his voice and flashed him a smirk.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, hopping out of bed and grabbed some clothes to wear for the day.

Dean, observant of her edginess, was not convinced but let it slide for the time being. Carter emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later fully dressed, toweling her hair dry. Sam was now snoozing in her bed and Dean was dressed, shoes and all, and kicked back, watching TV.

"What are you watching?" she curiously asked, seeing an office kind of sitcom.

Dean threw her an incredulous look. She lazily tossed the towel back into the bathroom and sat down next to Dean, ignoring the fact that he didn't answer her question.

"Question. What kind of bear is best?"  
"Well that's a ridiculous question."  
"False. Black bear."  
"That's debatable."  
"False. Bears eat beets. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica."

Carter chuckled and smiled, getting up to fix her makeup.

"Did I just see you _smile_?" Dean genuinely asked.

Carter frowned at him through the mirror.

"And then it's gone," he noted, throwing up his hand.  
"I can't help it you're such a butthead," she remarked, finishing her eyeliner with a small flourish.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Wait a minute. Did you just call me a butthead?" he asked, realizing what she said.

She turned around and they looked at one another before Carter cracked another smile, making them both chuckle.

"Well, let's get going," Dean said turning off the TV and standing up.  
"Going? Going where?" Carter wrinkled her face in confusion.  
"Just because Casanova there is sleeping doesn't mean our stomachs have to suffer," he pulled on his leather jacket.  
"Cool. I fly, you buy?" Carter hopefully asked, snatching the keys out of Dean's hand and playfully shaking them in the air by the door.

Dean mock laughed and held his hand out, "Funny. How 'bout I fly, you buy?"

She yanked the keys back, "Now what kind of man makes the woman pay?"

"The kind that doesn't like the woman, now gimme the keys," he ordered.

Carter pondered it a moment before quickly turning outside, calling behind her, "You'll have to catch me!"

Dean hesitated a moment, a little wary of Carter's playful mood. Figuring it wouldn't last, Dean tore off after her. The blinding sun blurred his vision, but he was soon able to catch sight of Carter on the other side of the parking lot. She stood on her toes dangling the keys in the air once more.

"Carter!" Dean faux-angrily yelled.  
"Come on, Lancelot! You can't catch a little girl?" she taunted with a smirk.

He vanished behind a row of cars. Carter, knowing not to stay in the one place, also weaved in and out of the many vehicles in the parking lot. After a couple minutes Carter slowed her pace, not hearing Dean's footsteps anywhere. She gazed behind her looking for any sign of him, only to run into the arms of the elder Winchester.

"Gotcha," he smoothly declared with a sly smirk, tightly gripping Carter.

Carter's arms were pressed firmly against Dean's chest and she was quite aware of how close she was to him. It surprisingly didn't bother her like it did when she was with Sam.

"So you have. And just what exactly do you plan to do with me?" she mischievously posed.  
"Oh I could think of a few things," he replied with a smirk of equal mischief, holding her even tighter by the waist.

She chuckled and tucked the keys in the pocket on the front of his jacket.

"Ok, Lancelot, fun time's over. I'm hungry!" she announced.

Dean chuckled again and loosened his grip, but didn't fully remove his arms and Carter didn't back away. After a moment, she shyly smiled and stepped out of his grasp.

In the car, Carter wistfully gazed out the window while Dean climbed into the front seat. He momentarily looked at her before clearing his throat and igniting the engine. The ride to the nearest restaurant was painfully silent. For the second time that day, Dean somehow could tell something was wrong with Carter. Usually, Dean can't read people very well but something about Carter is different. That being said, he knew it was partially his responsibility to talk to her about it.

Clearing his throat once more, he uncertainly glanced at her.

"So you want to tell me what's going on?" he started.

He heard her sigh, signaling that she was going to need some more provoking.

"I mean, not that I didn't enjoy your little game this morning, it's just...well...it's not really your style," he worded, unsure if what he was saying was the right thing or not.

"What, flirting?" she asked, knowing exactly the word Dean was thinking.  
"Well I...I guess it's just..."  
"It's alright, save your breath, Lancelot," she tried quickly ending the conversation.

After Carter's curt last remark, Dean pulled into a classy little diner. Turning off the car he turned to face Carter.

"Look, Carter. I know I'm not your favorite person. And to be quite honest, you're not mine. All I know is that...we share something. I don't know what it is exactly but I can tell when you're upset and I've only known you for a month at best. I can tell when you're happy, sad, hungry...I can tell when you're around without even looking!"

She turned her head at that point and saw he was just as confused about all of this as she was.

"Now, I don't have any clue why this is happening...but it scares the absolute hell out of me. But when your brother abandoned you...that put me in charge of you," he quietly finished.

She stared back into his eyes awhile.

"Let's just go inside," she whispered, unbuckling herself and quickly getting out of the car. Carter strolled into the diner without Dean and sat at the front counter. The feeling and memory of her dream took hold of her and she couldn't ignore it. And she could not figure out why she had the dream in the first place.

"Coffee. Black," Dean called to the waitress standing nearby and took a seat next to Carter.

It was silent until the waitress came back with Dean's coffee.

"I've just got a lot on my mind. You should be able to wrap your head around that one," she noted, flipping through the menu.  
"Understatement," he intoned, sipping his coffee.  
"And I get that things will probably never be totally ok between us. But you're right, there is some kind of connection between us. I'm ok around you, Dean," she explained.

She could see the confused look on his face. Upon seeing this she decided to continue, "I'm not afraid of you. I never was. That day in New York when I met you, I knew I could be safe with you and trust you. Do you understand? _Me_, of all people...When you're around, I can be myself. When you're around, it makes everything alright," she finished, looking at him.

He nodded, recognizing the same feeling in himself.

"Well, now that the chick flick moment is over, let's eat!" he proclaimed, picking up a menu.

Carter laughed, glad their soul-searching conversation was over.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom. I'll be right back," she told him hopping off the stool.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Women."

Carter took special care to bump her elbow into Dean's side. He grunted and tried swinging his arm around but she was just out of reach. Sticking her tongue out at him she disappeared down the hallway. Not watching where she was going, she accidentally ran into someone from the kitchen.

"Oh sorry sir..." she turned to apologize only to see Castiel. Her face quickly darkened.  
"What are you doing here?" she rudely asked.  
"We have work for you."

Before Carter could protest, Castiel pressed his fingers against her temple and she blacked out.


	15. Chapter 14

**Usual Disclaimer**

* * *

"Good morning, Jan. Is he in yet?"  
"Of course Miss Oliver. And he's been asking for you all morning," the mail lady Janice informed the young receptionist with a knowing smirk.

The receptionist, Carter Oliver, tried her best to hide her giddy smile but was unable to contain her joy. She continued her way down the hallway to her desk in front of the main office to the Director of Sales and Marketing of Sandover Bridge and Iron. As she crossed down the hallway to the elevators, Carter noticed an unusual amount of police in the area. She frowned as she saw out the window an ambulance pulling out of the Sandover parking lot. Passing the technical support cubicles, an uneasy feeling washed over Carter and she stopped in her tracks. Sensing someone was watching her, she glanced to her left to catch one of the support guys looking at her. Momentarily, their eyes connected, and Carter felt as if she was looking at an old friend. Carter shook her head and continued to the elevators.

When Carter reached her desk, she slid open the top drawer occupied usually by the things most important on her to-do list. Upon opening the drawer, though, she caught sight of a multitude of sketches. Furrowing her eyebrows, she pulled out the torn pages and leafed through each symbol.

The symbols she beheld instantly brought forth flashes of some distant memory. It was dark, but she could clearly see the symbols etched into a dark stone wall.

_"Miss Oliver, can I see you in my office?"_ a voice echoed through the speaker on her desk, shaking her from her reverie.

Carter folded the scraps of paper and stuffed them into the pocket of her blazer. She picked up the caramel espresso and strolled into her boss' office, taking care to remain quiet seeing as he was on headset. She was nearly at his desk when he took a double take at her and smiled.

"I'll call you back, Joe," he clicked his headset off and took it out of his ear.

"You needed to see me, Mr. Smith?" she asked, setting the espresso down in front of him on his desk.

Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing, moved from behind his desk and stood in front of his young assistant. He tenderly brushed her hair from her face and pressed his lips against hers. She eagerly returned the kiss and snaked her arms around his neck.

"I had a good time last night," he said, lips still locked with Carter's.

She smiled and pulled away.

"I can tell," she smirked, giving him one more peck.

He chuckled moving once more behind his desk.

"So I never told you about what happened after my meeting yesterday," he said replacing the headset into his ear.  
"Oh yeah?" she asked, attending to the various odd jobs she did to keep Dean's job easier.  
"Yeah, I swear those techies get weirder every day," he noted, taking his numbers from Carter.  
"Come on, they're not that bad. You're exaggerating, Dean," she laughed.

He laughed in response, "I'm serious! He cornered me in the elevator and started asking me if I believed in ghosts and vampires. Then he told me he's been having weird dreams and asked if I had them too. It was the most awkward situation I've ever been in."

Carter skeptically gazed at him, "Yeah that is pretty weird."

"I'm telling you, weirder every day," he reiterated, intently looking to his computer.  
"Hey, do you know what was going on downstairs this morning? There were a bunch of cops around and I thought I saw an ambulance leave," Carter asked moving behind the desk next to Dean.

"You mean you didn't hear?" he asked entirely shocked.  
"Hear what?" she questioned, hopping up onto his desk.  
"A tech support guy killed himself last night," he explained, still surprised she hadn't heard.

She gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.

"Did they say why?" she questioned further.  
"No idea," he said, focusing once more on his computer.

Carter's heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to wrap her head around what she was just told.

"So what are you doing now?" she inquired, reaching over him to grab the sales invoices from the previous day. Carter heard his sharp intake of breath and felt him ease her onto his lap. She flipped through the pages in her hand as Dean researched an employee profile.

"Two weeks?" he uttered.

Carter looked up at the monitor.

_Paul Dunbar,_ she read across the top of the Human Resources page of the Sandover database. Then she saw what unnerved Dean.

They looked at each other wondering the same thing.

"Why would somebody kill themselves two weeks before they were to retire?" Carter finally asked.

Dean sighed and frowned, "It just doesn't make any sense."

Carter had that strange feeling again in her stomach. She wanted to do some more digging, but she was afraid it wasn't her place to do so.

"Nothing ever does. Anyway, these numbers on this individual sales invoice don't add up," she reluctantly pointed out, handing them to Dean.  
"What?" Dean asked, browsing the sheet.  
"The total number of units replaced and units sold don't match the day's returns. Probably just a simple excel error," she deduced, taking back the paper to lookup the employee ID.

"Good catch," Dean commended, surprised that he didn't catch it himself.  
"That's what I'm here for," she smiled turning to the computer, "Let's see...ID 2739-TS...Ian Mackenzie."  
"Send him up here for me?" he asked with a devilish smirk.  
"But of course Mr. Smith," she bowed low and left his office with a laugh.

Carter Oliver was a twenty year old college student of Ohio State. Three weeks ago she took the job at Sandover Bridge and Iron to earn money to continue her schooling. It's strange, though. The other day she went back to campus and she found that she didn't have a key to the residence hall she was supposedly staying in. Then when she went to Student Resources, they told her no one by her name was every enrolled at OSU. It was at that point that she realized she couldn't even remember what her major had even been. Seeing as she had a steady job, she calmly applied for the fall semester and decided to continue working at Sandover.

But then there were these dreams.

The images of those symbols were in her dreams every night. She didn't know what they meant or where she had seen them but they were always there. And then there were also the dreams of her in hell. They seemed so entirely real she almost felt as if the pain was real. Luckily, while she was awake she had Dean Smith to keep her company.

The co-workers carried the torch from the beginning. Each went out of the other's way to be nice and help the other out. They spent nearly every part of the day together and created the perfect team to keep their division running like a well-oiled machine. Not until a few days ago, did they have their first actual date. The two handled themselves incredibly maturely, taking things day by day and not getting too involved at night. Yes, aside from the stray oddities, Carter's life was going well and she enjoyed it.

Didn't she?

"Mr. Mackenzie, You're required to come see Dean Smith on twenty-two about some paperwork," she kindly spoke into the mouthpiece of her own headset.

Not long after she got off the line, the phone began buzzing for Mr. Smith.

"Sandover Bridge and Iron, Sales and Marketing this is Carter speaking," she habitually answered.

On the other line was Joe Dannan from accounting.

"Hello Joe...no he can't answer now...he's about to go into a meeting with one of the staff...yes it's about the sales from yesterday...he caught it this morning."

Carter sighed and rolled her eyes, annoyed that she had to deal with the angsty accountants. The support worker came down the hall and stood in front of Carter's desk.

"You can go on in, Ian," she cheerily told him, noting the anxious look on his face.

"Joe, he just got the numbers this morning. What do you want me to do?...I _told _you he's in a meeting...it's a quick fix...yes I understand you need them...bu-...j-joe...Joseph!...he'll get them to you by this afternoon! Goodbye!" she abruptly ended the call and tossed the earpiece on her desk.

"Ian! Hey!" she heard from Dean's office and felt a breeze as the tech guy rushed out of his office.

"Wait!" Dean said following Ian out of his office. Carter was instantly on her feet.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

Dean held out his arms and sent her an incredulous look following Ian into the men's bathroom. Carter rounded her desk strolled down the hall to the bathroom.

"Look at me!" she heard Dean bark. His uneasy tone of voice made Carter quicken her pace and rush into the bathroom, only to skid to a stop and gasp. Dean was kneeling on the floor beside a bloody and dead Ian. Upon hearing Carter's gasp, Dean jumped and turned around protectively hiding Ian from Carter's view.

"Somebody help us! Somebody!" he shouted as loudly has he could.

Carter's body trembled under Dean's strong arms, but she could not tear her eyes away from the body. Dean pressed his hand on her cheek and forced her to look at him.

"Carter, go get help," he instructed.

She hesitated.

"Carter!" he urged, pushing her toward the door.

Carter, eyes never leaving Ian's body, stumbled out of the bathroom and ran to the nearest office, screaming about an accident. Dan, the Executive Administrator, bolted out of his office and to the restroom, leaving Carter extremely disoriented. She collapsed to the ground and held her hands in her head. Ian's wide-open, black eyes seared themselves into her memory.

"There you are," Dean breathed. Dean could tell she was thoroughly shaken and didn't have to ask if she was alright. He sat down on the floor with her and cradled her in his arms, only standing when the police arrived ten minutes later requesting a statement. By that time, Carter was able to compose herself and followed Dean to the police. An unnerved crowd had gathered to watch the coroner roll Ian's body away. The second body they had to wheel away that day from Sandover. Two suicides, less than twelve hours apart within the same company.

Almost as if a switch flipped inside her, Carter suddenly became skeptical about these assumed suicides. It was too big of a coincidence. Nothing made sense and Carter was determined to figure this out, other lives could be at stake.

Just as Carter came onto a new sense of resolve, she locked eyes once more with the man from downstairs. They stared at one another before watching Ian's body leaving on the gurney.

"And what about you, Miss?" the officer questioning Dean asked her.  
"Sorry?" she responded finally paying attention.  
"Can you describe what happened?" he asked again.

"Yeah...um...I was reviewing the sales sheets yesterday and found a few errors. I called Ian and told him Mr. Smith needed to speak with him. He seemed high-strung? Anyway a few minutes later he came running out of the office and Mr. Smith kept telling him to calm down and to wait. He didn't know what was going on either. I followed them until I heard Mr. Smith yelling for help and when I came in, Ian...well..." she trailed off motioning to the elevator.

Excusing herself from the officers, she walked back down to Dean's office, catching him with his shirt off. Despite herself, she took a moment to eye up her employer's body. She grabbed his spare and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he said barely making eye contact with her.

She frowned.

"Are you alright?" she innocently asked.  
"Alright? Am I alright? No I'm not alright! I just watched somebody kill themselves!" he yelled making her jump and take a step back.

He sighed seeing the startled look on her face and stuffed his arms into his sleeves without buttoning his shirt.

"Carter, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap," he outstretched his arms. Carter fell into his body and nuzzled her face in his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne. Taking a step back she gazed up at him.

"Dean, something isn't right about this," she told him.  
"I know, Carter, I know," he said turning to his phone.  
"Do you have any idea what's going on?" she asked, plopping down in a chair.  
"No, but I intend to find out," he vehemently declared picking up the phone.

"I need to see you in my office, now," he ordered, slamming the phone down.


	16. Chapter 15

**Through Night and Chaos -15-**

"What did you call him up for? What could he possibly know?" Carter curiously asked, starting to button up Dean's shirt for him.

"I must be going crazy," he shook his head turning toward the window in his office.

Carter was about to ask him what he was going on about but their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come on in, shut the door," Dean sternly instructed.

The man walked in and cast Carter a fleeting glance before turning to Dean who stood nervously behind his chair.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.  
"Not sure I know," he nervously chuckled.  
"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

Carter grabbed a chair and was the first one to sit down, curiously listening.

"I'm Sam Wesson, I started here three weeks ago," he explained.

Carter furrowed her eyebrows. That's when she and Dean started working at Sandover.

"Alright. You cornered me in the elevator...talking about ghosts...and now," he paused unsure of what he wanted to say.  
"Now what?" Sam pressed.  
"Now nothing, I..." Dean turned away grabbing his new cleansing drink.

"So you started working here three weeks ago? Yeah me too. Carter as well," he pointed to the young girl.

Carter stood with a smile and shook Sam's hand.

"Carter Oliver," she smiled at him, that familiarity never yielding.

Sam and Carter both watched Dean tensely gulp down his master cleanse.

"When you were in that bathroom with Ian," Sam slowly started, "Did you see something?"

Sam and Carter expectantly gazed at him.

"I don't know. I don't know what I saw," he said.  
"Wait, are you saying that... did you see a _ghost_?" Sam directly asked, causing Carter to sharply look at Dean.  
"I was freaking out. The guy penciled his damn neck!" he tried to explain.

Carter stepped toward him and placed her slender hand on his arm, hoping to calm him down some.

"You did, didn't you?" Sam excitedly asked.

Dean sighed but Carter was more than interested.

"Get this. What if these suicides aren't really suicides? What if there's something...not natural here?" he gushed.  
"So what? Ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?" Dean tried to understand, sitting down in his chair. Sam followed suit and Carter sat on the edge of Dean's desk.  
"I know it sounds crazy. But yes, that's what I'm telling you," Sam confirmed.

Carter nodded, "I believe you."

Dean strangely looked at her and both men said in unison, "You do?"

Carter chuckled, "Why not? Dean, didn't you say that that one guy killed himself two weeks before he was supposed to retire? And Ian was geeking out over a simple computer error that wasn't even his fault. Nobody gets that worked up."

"Based on what?" Dean still unsurely asked.

Sam hesitated, "Instinct?"

Dean sighed again, "I've got that same instinct."

"Seriously? You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts. And then it turns out that there's a real ghost!" he raved.  
"So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?"  
"No, I mean...that would be nuts. I'm just saying that something weird is definitely going on around here, right?"  
"Understatment," Carter noted.  
"Yeah, So I've been digging around a little," Sam started shuffling through his backpack, pulling out some papers handing them to Dean.

Carter leaned over and looked at the papers herself.

"I think I've found a connection between the two guys," Sam said.  
"How did you break into their e-mail accounts?" Carter asked, making Dean expectantly look at him.  
"I used some skills that I happen to have to...satisfy my curiosity," he sheepishly said, hoping he wouldn't get busted.

Carter smirked, nodding at Sam and Dean looked back at the papers.

"Nice," he commented.  
"Yeah. Okay. So it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same e-mail telling them to report to HR, room fourteen fourty-four."

Carter frowned.

"HR's on seven," Dean realized.  
"Exactly," Sam agreed.

Dean shuffled the papers together and Carter stood up, pacing. She wanted to go up to fourteen so badly she was willing to go by herself if she needed to.

"Should we go check this out?" Dean cautiously asked.  
"Like...right now?"

Dean looked down, "No. It's getting late, you're right. Besides, Carter and I were supposed to go out tonight."

Carter mentally kicked herself in the head.

After a moment Sam uttered, "I am dying to check this out right now."

"Right?" Dean echoed with a certain enthusiasm.

Dean stood and Carter stood in front of him.

"Dean, I want to go too," she told him, gently touching his chest with her fingertips.  
"No, absolutely not," he denied, taking her hands down.  
"Why not! I'm just as curious as the two of you," she protested.  
"Carter, we don't know what's down there. You could get hurt. No, you're done for the day. You should go home," he told her.

She furrowed her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest, glancing at her watch.

"Well, in about two minutes I'm off the clock, meaning that you're no longer my boss. Also meaning I no longer have to listen to you," she announced turning on her heel and walking straight out the door to the elevators.

Sam chuckled, "She's quite the pistol, isn't she?"

Dean shook his head with a slight smirk, "You have no idea. Come on, we'd better follow her. Knowing Carter she would go up herself if we took too long."

"You're lucky, I wasn't going to hold the elevator for you," Carter told them as they met up with her in the elevator.

Dean threw Sam a glance and Sam laughed.

"You shouldn't just run off on your own," Dean quietly reproached.  
"Calm down, Lancelot. I knew you'd be chasing after me," She said with a slight smirk.

Dean shook his head.

"Are you two...together?" Sam cautiously asked.

Carter and Dean shared a look and took a slight step away from each other.

"We've been seeing each other," Dean vaguely told Sam.  
"Funny, I would've guessed the two of you would have been together for years," he noted, making Carter frown.

She, too, has thought that at times, but she couldn't understand why. The elevator came to a halt and they all filed out. As Carter stepped out though, she paused. Far down the hallway, she could feel something wasn't right and then she heard a struggle. She shoved her way past the guys and sprinted down the hall. Sam and Dean looked at each other before bolting after her. They rounded the corner and finally heard what Carter had. She tried the door but looked back at them.

"It's locked!" she shouted.  
"Move," Sam ordered, moving Carter out of the way and kicking the door open with a great force.  
"Whoa," Dean expressed.

The two men rushed into the room and tried to lift the metal shelf off of the tech guy. Carter froze, however, as she saw the same ghost Dean had seen in the bathroom. The ghost threw Dean into the shelves and tossed Sam across the room.

"Carter!" Dean shouted, tossing her an old wrench.

Somehow, she instinctively knew to drive the wrench threw the ghost. Hers and Dean's instincts served them well as the spirit instantly disappeared. The boys lifted the shelf and the man crawled out and got the hell out of there.

"How did you know to do that?" Sam incredibly asked.  
"I have no idea," Dean astonishingly responded.  
"Guys, I don't think that thing will be gone for long," Carter noted, suddenly becoming chilled.

They nodded and Dean ushered Carter out of the room. The appearance of the ghost startled Carter, and something in her gut told her to get out of that building.

"I don't know about you two, but I think I'm going to get going," she told them after they got off the elevator.  
"Yeah, good idea. I'll come with you. Let's meet at my apartment," Dean decided.

He gave Sam the address and apartment number and Carter was just itching to leave. Sam walked out of Dean's office and saw Carter on edge.

"Hey," at the sound of his voice, Carter slightly jumped making him chuckle.  
"It's not funny," she grumbled leaning against the door frame, calling into the office, "C'mon Dean! You're worse than a woman, let's go!"

He shot back some response Carter ignored, looking back to Sam. She eyed him up with her arms crossed.

"Dean said you had dreams about ghost hunting," she tried to confirm.  
"Yeah..." he sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

She sighed and pulled a handful of small papers from her pocket, handing them to Sam.

He took them, confusedly fumbling through them.

"I drew them and I don't know what any of them mean. But they're in my dreams any time I fall asleep. And...I...and I dream that I'm in hell. Being tortured by these horrible...awful creatures," she sighed, envisioning herself chained to a bloody wall of sheer stone.

"Anyway, something's not right around here. And it's not just the friggin' _ghost_ that attacked us."

Sam laughed under his breath, squeezing Carter's shoulder before disappearing down the hall to go to the parking structure. Carter turned to yell at Dean yet again but instead ran into him.

"Oh, you're here," she simply observed. Dean dropped his briefcase and assertively pressed his lips against Carter's, his right hand smoothly cupping her face. Engrossed in Dean's uncharacteristic approach, Carter pressed her fingertips into his back wanting to be closer to him than ever. Dean's kiss sent goose bumps down her spine and when he pulled away she was left out of breath. Carter could feel Dean's warm breath flush her cheeks as his lips softly brushed hers.

"Where did that come from?" she questioned with a goofy smile, her cheeks running warmer than usual.

Dean's move was brash and uncouth. Completely opposite of the way he normally behaves around Carter. It was like Dean, uncensored. And Carter almost couldn't handle it, she wanted more of that Dean.

"You could've gotten hurt," he breathed, gathering his bags and tightly grasping Carter's hand, pulling her out to the parking structure.

Arriving at Dean's flat, Carter comfortably settled herself on the couch while Sam, a little less comfortable, leaned against the back of said couch. Dean's "cleanse" supply had greatly depleted on the ride back to his apartment so he went to get a refill, coming back chugging down more of the yellow liquid.

"Holy crap, dude."

Carter furrowed her eyebrow as a small smirk crept across her face.

"Yeah, I could use a beer," Sam craved.  
"I second that!" Carter enthusiastically popped her head up.

Dean gave her an incredulous look, "What are you nuts? I'm not giving a minor alcohol".

Carter grumbled, settling back. Now _that _was the Dean she was used to.

"Sorry man, I'm on the cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house," he told Sam.

"Yeah, that's why we had to go out somewhere for dinner," Carter muttered under her breath just loud enough for Sam to hear.

Dean turned back around to grab Sam and Carter water bottles.

"Hey, how the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?" Sam asked, puzzled.

Carter snorted, taking the bottle.

"Crazy right? And Carter hearing the ghost way before we did. Oh and nice job kicking that door in. Very Jet Li. What are you like a black belt or something?" Dean asked, grabbing his cleanse.  
"No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like...we've done this before," he confessed.  
"What do you mean 'before?' Like Shirley MacLaine before?" Dean tried to clarify, a little uncertain.

Carter, however, couldn't shake the same feeling that Sam had pinpointed. Like the three of them had been doing this for a long time.

"No. I-I just can't shake this feeling like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than just sit in a cubicle," he explained.  
"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel the same way," Dean noted, not really believing Sam.  
"No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Carter replied, surprising Dean.  
"You do?" he turned to her.

She nodded, slightly ashamed she hadn't told him before.

He sighed, sitting where Sam was previously and stroked Carter's face, "Well I don't believe in destiny. But I do believe in dealing what's right in front of us though."

"All right, so, what do we do now?" Sam conceded.  
"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research," Dean stood back up, Carter following him.  
"Okay," but then he paused, "Did you just call me Sammy?"  
"Did I?" Dean stopped.  
"I think you did...Yeah. Don't," he walked off to get his laptop, leaving Carter giggling behind Dean.

He turned around and gave her a stern look, only succeeding in making her giggle more. Dean shook his head and ushered her in front of him. He sat her in the chair and leaned over her to login to his computer.

"Ok, computer whiz, work your magic," he instructed.  
"Whoa, hold the phone. What happened to 'research is what I do best?'" she incredulously looked at him.  
"Please? You know you want to help me," he tried swaying her by playfully trailing kisses along her jaw.

She chuckled pushing him away, "I hate you."

"Yeah, I hate you too," he pecked her on the cheek, pulling up a chair next to her. Sam came back with his laptop not long after and setup shop at a nearby table.

Half an hour later, Carter sighed in frustration.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for! And I'm getting a headache," she pouted.

Dean patted her leg and switched chairs with her. Carter folded her arms across her chest and leaned her head back.

"If your head hurts, go lay down," Dean advised.  
"I don't want to be useless," she brought her head back up.  
"Don't worry, Sam and I can keep looking," he smiled.

Carter shook her head and ruffled Dean's hair as she walked past to get to Dean's room. She thought maybe the headache was from Dean's bright computer screen, but she realized that wasn't it after the headache got worse as she settled herself into his bed. Carter didn't know when it happened, but she fell asleep.

_There was so much pain Carter didn't even bother to scream. She knew that any minute now, the pain would stop. It did. Minutes later she awoke to the familiar dark glow in her cell. Apparently her torturers had had enough of her for one day. Carter had started to get up when she noticed she wasn't alone. Fear gripped her as she wondered if this was some new torturing method of the demons. _

_"H-hello?" she hoarsely whispered, not used to using her voice._

_The creature stirred, and Carter clung to the wall. The creature, she soon realized, was a man. Judging by the holes in his deteriorating clothes, he was just taken down from the hooks above the pit. Adjusting the rags around her body, Carter cautiously crawled over to help the man sit up. His eyes opened and he immediately jumped back from Carter. _

_"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," she tried to calm him down.  
__"Where am I?" he frighteningly scanned the room his eyes landing back on the girl in front of him.  
__"Um well you're dead and this is hell," she unsurely told him.  
__"Yeah, I got that from the hooks that were pierced through my body. I meant where am I now, this clearly isn't the welcome lobby I was strung up in before," he ran his fingers through his messy hair, "And what is that awful sound?" he heard the constant hum and drone of hell. _

_"You don't want to know," she warned, "This is my cell...er...our cell, I guess. They'll keep you here when they aren't...um," she didn't really know how to say it. The man nodded and looked around the small room once more._

_"What's your name?" Carter asked, sensing something familiar about him.  
__"Dean Winchester," he replied, moving back next to her.  
__"Did you say Winchester?" she frowned.  
__"Yeah, why?" he curiously looked at her.  
__"Um...I think I knew your father. John?" she sadly told him.  
__"You know my father! How?" he excitedly asked.  
__"He used to share this cell with me," she dolefully looked down and moved to the other wall. _

_"Oh," he said, all enthusiasm gone, "Well, who are you?"  
__"Carter Augustine," she replied, sharply turning her head to the door._

_They both heard the clicking of locks outside the door. Carter tensed and slowly stood as the door swung open. Two smoldering demons charged into the cell and tore Carter out of the room. The pain engulfed her body again, but this time, for some reason, the only thing Carter could do was scream at the top of her lungs. _

"CARTER!"

Carter's eyes snapped open and she could suddenly feel the pressure of Dean's strong arms keeping her down and the hold of the sheets she was tangled in. Dean had a deeply concerned look on his face as he helped untangle Carter.

"What happened?" he asked as she relaxed back into the bed, trying to catch her breath.  
"I don't- I don't know. It was just a dream," she quietly said.  
"That must've been some dream. You were screaming and flailing around and clocked me one in the face," he pointed to the small mark on his cheek.  
"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Something was wrong, Dean could obviously tell. There was something different about Carter that he had noticed in the past few days but it only became more obvious after this ghost decided to rear its ugly head.

"Listen, Carter, I don't know what's going on with you, but I think it has to do with this ghost. Sam and I think it's Sandover, the founder and we found out how to get rid of it. He went ahead. I'm going to meet him there and we're going to kill this ghost," he explained.

"I'm going too," she started to get out of bed.  
"Uh, no you're not," Dean countered, rounding the bed and blocking the door.  
"Yes I am. I'm not afraid. I can help you guys," she said.

Dean sighed and brought Carter into his chest. She clung to his shirt and deeply breathed in his scent, nuzzling her face into his chest.

"I'll be fine, Dean, I promise," she spoke into him.  
"I know, Carter, I know," he sighed once again.


	17. Chapter 16

**Thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favorites list and/or alerts list! It means a lot to me, honestly. And I, once again, apologize for the length wait for an update. This one is nice and long and slightly amusing at the end. **

* * *

Carter was on edge as they entered the Sandover building but it wasn't from ghost, it was from that dream. That one was more intense than any of the others and this time Dean was in it.

"Put your cell phones on walkie-talkie in case we get separated," Dean said as they all walked into the elevator.  
"How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speck of DNA in a skyscraper?" Sam thought.  
"Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office right?"

Dean pressed 14 and the elevator began to rise.

"Sounds like a plan. So salt and iron can 'hurt' this thing?" Carter asked, trying to clarify a few things Dean told her on the way.  
"Make it disappear, yeah," Sam confirmed.  
"Sweet," she voiced, taking a fire poker and twirling it around.

Seconds later, the elevator halted to a stop and the trio headed down the hall and into room 1444. The boys instantly took to rummaging through shelves and cabinets.

"Remind me again what we're looking for?" Carter asked, unconvinced they would find anything in this room.  
"Any part of Sandover. Like hair or a nail or something," Dean reiterated disappearing behind some shelves.

Carter followed suit and took the other side of the room while Sam covered the desk in the center. Not long after they started looking, they were interrupted.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the guard shined his flashlight in Sam's face.

Carter ducked down and peered at the guard through some old file folders.

"Nothing. I just-" he was cut off by the guard grabbing his arm and yanking him out of the room.

Carter emerged from behind the shelves to meet Dean. They rifled through drawer after drawer for another fifteen minutes, unable to find anything that could be deemed DNA.

"Dean, I don't think we're going to find anything in here," Carter realized.

Dean flipped through a few more folders but paused as he picked up an old framed newspaper clipping of an old Sandover bridge.

"I think you're right," he handed Carter picture as he tried to get a hold of Sam.  
"Hey, you okay?" he spoke into the mouth piece.

Carter looked at the picture and a look of realization swept over her face.

"Dean, you're a genius," she smiled.

Sam's voice came out of the receiver and was shaken and full of shock.

"Call you back."

Carter and Dean heard the fright in his voice and looked at each other, moving out into the hall.

"What do you think happened?" Carter asked, leaning against the wall.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe he's just still with the guard."

Carter didn't buy into that.

"Dean? You there?" came Sam's voice.

Carter stood up.

"Yeah, I think we got it. Meet me on twenty-two," he responded.  
"Okay yeah. Just take the stairs," he warned.

A look of horror passed over Carter, "Why did he say that?"

"Dunno, better do what he says," Dean suggested, turning in the direction of the stairwell.

Ten minutes and eight more floors later, Dean and Carter met up with Sam in front of the Sandover history display case.

"What the f-" Carter had just seen Sam.  
"Whoa, that's a lot of blood," Dean's eyes widened as he too saw Sam.  
"Yeah, I know," Sam relented.  
"Right. So, uh, in there," Dean pointed to the case and sub sequentially a pair of Sandover's gloves.

"P.T. Sandover's gloves," Sam sighed.  
"P.T. Sandover's gloves," Carter excitedly repeated, beaming at Sam.  
"Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a finger nail clipping or a hair or two? Something," Dean pointed out.

Sam took a deep breath, "So, you ready?"

"I have no idea," Dean admitted.  
"Me neither," Sam echoed.  
"Well I am. Let's crack this bitch open," Carter urged, making the guys look at her funny.

They shrugged it off and grabbed their own pokers while Sam grabbed a bottle of salt.

"Go for it," Sam said.  
"Right," Dean said before smashing the glass with his fire poker.

A sudden chill came over Carter and the next thing she knew, she was being thrown against a wall. Her face hit a corner of the wall, knocking the senses out of her. She saw Dean thrown in the same manner as her and for a moment Carter thought she saw Dean in regular street clothes, being attacked by a man with black eyes and a nasally sounding voice.

"Alastair!" she shouted but then shook her head, standing up once she realized Sam had dissipated the ghost of Sandover with some salt. Dean also stood, shaking his head at Carter who had a slight blood trickle down the side of her face.

"Oh. Nice," he indicated to Sam.

The ghost reappeared behind Dean, sending Carter across the floor again.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, throwing Dean the poker. Dean slashed the iron through the ghost, successfully dissipating it.  
"Damnit! That's twice the friggin' ghost has had me on my ass!" Carter growled scooping up her poker.

Sam stood, chuckling, "Nice catch."

"Right?" Dean laughed himself.

The ghost appeared between the boys but before either of them could swing, Carter had already thrown her poker through the phantom.

"Watch it!" she called as it came back behind Sam. He got a shot at it but he came back behind Dean. Dean swung but he missed and it was suddenly behind Sam and sent him to the floor. Carter charged but the ghost caught her wrist before the iron hit it. He forced her against the wall and brutally threw Dean across the room, knocking him out.

"Dean!" Carter shrieked as she somehow broke free of the ghost's power. She ran at the ghost, who was now trying to brainwash the semi-conscious Dean. The ghost merely forced her into the wall again. She was helpless as Dean awoke, face-to-face with the ghost.

"Sam!" Carter yelled.

Sam was already setting fire to the salted gloves. Carter watched as the ghost went up in flames and burned into nothing. The hold was released and Carter collapsed to the floor and scrambled over to Dean, wrapping her arms around him and holding his head between her hands. She ran her thumb over a small cut on his hairline as he stared at the spot the ghost burned. Carter helped Dean to his feet and the two walked over to Sam.

"That was amazing," he expressed.  
"Right? Right?" Dean smiled.  
"Come on you two, let's fix up those scratches," Carter shook her head, pushing them toward the elevator. The three went to Dean's office where Carter pulled out a first aid kit and handed Sam a gauze pad and took another to press against Dean's forehead. Once she was satisfied with him she grabbed another gauze pad.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom to wash this up," she indicated to the dried blood on her cheek.

Carter splashed handfuls of cold water on her face. Adrenaline was pumping hard through her body and her hands shook as she clutched the edges of the sink.

"_You know, this isn't just a walk in the park for me either. I don't like this just as much as you don't," she objected.  
__"Oh I'm sure," he scorned.  
__"You know what? Fuck you, Dean!"_

_"You remember," he pointed out much to Carter's surprise.  
__"Just like you could tell when I found out, I can see in your eyes some kind of disgust. I know you remember," he repeated the tears now rolling down his battered cheeks, "After what I did to you...after how I felt d-doing it...Carter I can't even begin to tell you h-how sorry I am."_

_Carter's pale face grew warm with shame and she could feel the onslaught of coming tears. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that Todd still defended their father or that he had tried killing her. Carter's confusion and anxiety manifested itself in her throat, forcing her to jump off the counter and hurl into the toilet. Her entire body shook and her long brown hair was pulled back and held by Dean, who graciously handed her some mouthwash. After spitting a mix of blood and Listerine into the sink, Carter collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. Dean silently shut the door and sat down with the distressed girl._

_"Carter, I'm sorry," he whispered wrapping his large arms around her, allowing the girl to cry loudly into his chest._

_"You're Dean, aren't you? Dean Winchester," she guessed and his face contorted into a look of astonishment.  
__"It was Alastair, he uh got the jump on me, but she came," he explained indicating to Carter and adding "What was your name?"  
__"Carter Augustine. I'm his sister," she said, jerking her head in the direction of Todd._

These...memories ran through Carter's head, sending her to the floor with her head reeling. Carter gasped as the pain suddenly vanished. She slowly stood unsure of what she just...remembered? Still pondering what just happened, she went back to Dean's office only to stop short of his door as she heard some raised voices inside. She sat at her chair in front of her desk and pulled out the papers she had shown Sam earlier. She looked at them a moment before ripping them into pieces. Right after, Sam came out of the office looking frustrated. He spotted Carter and stopped.

"Come with me," he pleaded, "I know you feel the same way I do. This isn't right for us. We're supposed to out there, helping people, protecting them."

Carter peered over at the door to Dean's office.

"Carter, listen to me. The moment I saw you, I felt like I had known you for months. You weren't just a familiar face, I knew you as a friend," he held onto her hand and kneeled in front of her.

Tears were forming in her eyes. She knew he was right. There was something missing from this life, like an actual memory, not just a figurative hole. This wasn't them. But she knew Dean didn't agree and a part of her felt like she had to stay with _him_ and protect _him_.

"Sam, I want to go with you," she started, making his eyes brighten, "God knows I do. But I-I can't go without Dean."  
"Because you love him? Carter, I promise you, there will be other guys besides Dean. He has his apple-pie life all figured out-"  
"No! It's because I need to _protect_ him. You say you're destined to go out and hunt these...things. Well I was meant to protect Dean; it's what I was supposed to do. I can't leave him," she cried.

Sam sighed and walked away without another word. Carter furiously wiped away her tears before entering Dean's office.

"Dean, I-I'm going home," she said as confidently as she could.  
"What's wrong? You were crying," he noted, turning around to face her.  
"Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind," she lied knowing he could see right through it.  
"You should come spend the night with me," he suggested coming around by her.  
"No, I just want to go home. I'll see you tomorrow morning," she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned on her heel, leaving Dean feeling like he was abandoned by everyone.

* * *

The next morning, Carter awoke as she usually did at seven o'clock. Only this time, she didn't get dressed in her usual business attire. She put on a pair of dark jeans; a tank top under a Morrison striped hoodie and laced up her dark blue converse. She packed all of her valuables and clothes into one duffel bag, throwing all the business clothes and dresses into the trash. She pulled on her brown Hannah twill jacket and walked to work, duffel bag in hand.

Walking into the main lobby, Carter ran into Sam, literally.

"Oh sorry mi-Carter?"  
"Sam? Where are you going? Aren't you in the middle of a shift?" she asked.  
"Yeah, well I was. I quit. I'm leaving. What about you? That isn't exactly Sandover business attire," he pointed out.  
"I was just on my way up to tell Dean I quit too. Maybe I can change his mind," she slightly smiled as Sam looked more than overjoyed.  
"So you're going to do it? You're going to come with me?" he asked just to make sure.  
"Looks like it," she fully smiled, "Here, can you take my duffel to your car? I don't exactly have one," she sheepishly admitted.  
"Absolutely. So I'll see you down here in twenty?" he asked.

Carter nodded and continued her way up to Dean's office, she was already late.

"Good morning Miss...Oliver?" Jan greeted, clearly confused by Carter's appearance.  
"Jan," she simply nodded moving down the hall and to her desk. Carter made quick work of it, throwing away any and every paper she could find. Once she was done, though, she sat down, wondering just what exactly she was going to tell Dean.

"Dean," she softly knocked on the door.

He looked up, expecting to see his assistant there, ready to work with coffee in hand.

"Carter what are you do-"  
"I quit, Dean," she flat out told him.  
"What? How can you quit, just like that? Did Sam talk to you, if he did I swear to God I'm going to kill him," he said, anger clearly in his voice.  
"Will you let me explain?" she sounded desperate.

Dean completely stopped what he was doing and even took his head set out of his ear. All because he sensed Carter was about to tell him something he never knew.

"Dean, when Sam was saying this isn't our life, he wasn't speaking figuratively. This literally is not what we do. I feel like I remember bits and pieces of what we really do but the whole idea has just been erased from my head," she tried to explain.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not fully understanding her.  
"I mean that when I went to go register for classes at OSU, they had never heard of Carter Oliver. Or when I try to call my parents, the number is disconnected. I don't even remember my parents' names or if I have any siblings. But that's not the point. I'm going with Sam, Dean. I've been having those 'dreams' too," she revealed.

He sighed, not believing he was hearing this.

"Before, when we were fighting that ghost, I heard you yell out the name Alastair. He was in your dream wasn't he?" Dean slowly asked.

Carter nodded, "He was attacking you, and I was trying to stop him, to protect you."

"Protect me?" Dean asked.  
"I feel like, that's what I was supposed to do," she admitted, "And that's why I'm asking you to come with us. We need to go out and do this, but I can't go without you."  
"Carter, I've got a good thing going for me here. I can't just give it all up," he relented.  
"Give it all up? Dean, look at this place? You're trapped in a box! And wrapped in a monkey-suit! This just isn't you, Lancelot," she admonished.

"There you go with that name again," Dean muttered.  
"Ok, do you remember, last night after we first ran into the ghost and you came out of the office? Do you remember what you did?" she asked.  
"I kissed you," he scratched the back of his head.  
"Dean, please, you full out pushed me against the wall, ran your hands over me, and jammed your tongue down my throat. You were sleazy and impulsive. And you liked it. Don't you remember how it felt? It just felt like you, like that was who you were not Gordon Gekko in a tie. Please, Dean. Just think about it. Do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life sitting in this prison?"

She gazed at him waiting for some kind of response.

"Sam and I will be downstairs. We'll wait for twenty minutes and then we're gone," she warned him, walking straight out the door. She stopped a few steps down the hall and sighed.

"Miss Oliver!" Carter confusedly turned at the sound of Mr. Adler's booming voice.  
"Mr. Adler? Where have you been the past few days? I thought you were supposed to come in two days ago for your weekly check-up," she questioned as Adler strolled over to her.

"That's a good question," he breathed, pressing his finger to her temple.

Carter felt as if a sack of bricks was just slammed into her chest. She gasped and looked at the man in front of her.

"You-" she pointed at him and just realized what he did, "You son of bitch. You're another angel aren't you?" she growled.  
"I'm Zachariah. Now sit tight little girl while I attend to the prize fighter," he patted her on the head.  
"Little girl? Come here you asshole! I'll show you angels what the fear of God really is!" she screamed as she tried to attack the smirking angel in front of her but was held back by a pair of strong arms.

"Carter! Carter, calm down!" Sam's voice came from behind her as he finally stopped her flailing arms.  
"You bastard, I'm not done with you yet," she glared at him as he ignored her and walked into Dean's office.

Carter looked at Sam and collapsed on the chair she believed to be hers.

"I feel like I've just been punk'd," she muttered making Sam laugh.

She let out another growl of frustration and kicked the desk.

"Stupid angels. Stupid God!" she exclaimed.  
"Carter..." Sam cautioned.  
"Well where is he in all this? Why isn't he stopping the apocalypse? I mean honestly. I find it hard to believe Dean and I are the only ones who can stop this madness," she pointed out, "I mean what was the point of this? To piss me off? Job well done, I applaud the angels for continuing to be such dicks."

Both Sam and Carter soon heard Dean's voice, back to normal and pissed as hell. Carter was on alert and stood up, watching the door with Sam.

"Do you think we should go in?" she asked.  
"They're just talking," Sam said, just as observant as Carter.

They heard Dean yelling again and Carter instantly kicked down the door only to see "Adler" disappearing before their eyes.

"Dean, are you alright?" Sam worriedly asked.  
"He's fine," Carter waved it off, casually leaning against the bookshelf.  
"Speak for yourself, Barbie," he retorted.  
"No, I am not fine, Dean. That was absolutely ridiculous! I had to make-out with you! God, I feel like puking just thinking about it," she hid her face in her hands.

"The angels didn't make you do anything, sweetheart, you did that all on your own," Dean smirked but then dodged several books that came flying in his direction.  
"Enough, you two. Let's just get to the Impala and move on," Sam intervened.

Sam sighed and shook his head at the two before walking out of the room and down the hall.

"I need some food," Dean griped.

Carter opened her mouth to make fun of him but stopped, noticing that her stomach was also growling.

"Actually that's not a bad idea," she considered.  
"You wanna ditch Sam and walk to the café across the street?" Dean mischievously suggested with a smirk.

Carter laughed, "Lead the way."

Dean grabbed her outstretched hand and guided her out the building and across the street without Sam seeing them. They entered the quaint little store, still hand in hand and to be honest, Carter didn't mind.

"I'm going to find a place to sit. Just order for me," Carter told him.  
"Well, what do you want?" he asked.  
"Get me whatever you're getting," she shrugged her shoulders, walking to the counter by the window.

It was a great window seat and they could clearly see the Sandover building across the street. Carter began laughing when she saw Sam waiting impatiently by the parking structure entrance.

"What are you laughing at?" Dean wondered, coming by the counter with two large trays.  
"Sam," she pointed, giggling again.

Dean set down the trays and gazed out the window, chuckling at Sam's classical worried expression.

"I suppose we should tell him where we are," Dean sighed.  
"Or you could just tell him we're fine, not necessarily where we are," she hinted.

He didn't say anything, but he thought it was strange she wanted to be alone with him. Dean flipped out his phone and called Sam. Carter amusedly watched as she saw Sam hurriedly pull out his phone and anxiously speak into the mouthpiece.

"We were really hungry so we stopped for a bite to eat...no, not really...well, sounds like someone is a little jealous...calm down we won't take that long...ok, we'll meet you there," Dean closed his phone and stuck it in his pocket, "We're going to meet him at the Days Inn down the street when we're done."

Carter smiled and shook her head again.

"So? What'd you get us?" she asked, curious about the large trays.  
"You should've told me what you wanted because I don't think you're going to finish this all," he told her, setting her food in front of her, "It's a deluxe double bacon cheeseburger with the works, a side of chili cheese fries, all to be washed down with a cold bottle of beer."

Carter's mouth was watering as she smelled the glorious food. She couldn't remember the last time she had a good burger and fries.

"What's deluxe about it?" Carter curiously asked as she unwrapped the huge burger.  
"It's a half a pound more than the original," Dean said with a mouthful of fries.

Carter laughed and began devouring her food. It was ten minutes before she needed a drink. Dean astonishingly watched as she downed half of it and continued to eat. She looked at him funny, her cheeks full of food.

"What?" she defensively said, swallowing another gulp of beer.

He laughed, wiping a smudge of mustard from her cheek.

"I never thought I would see you drinking," he shook his head, munching on the last of his fries.

Carter shrugged her shoulders and wiped her hands clean, "I'm more fun that you give me credit."

"That has yet to be determined," he finished off his beer, "Come one. Let's go meet Sam."

Outside on the sidewalk, Dean untied his tie and tossed it in a nearby garbage can, untucking his shirt and releasing the stranglehold around his neck.

"You know, I s'pose you're right," he caved, "I really don't know anything about you other than the bad crap. It's just been such a crazy time."

Carter shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know, I kinda like messing with you," she playfully pushed him.  
"You better watch it there," he teasingly warned.  
"What? Are you going to torture me again?" she joked, poking his sides.  
"Hey now," he batted her hands away, "I just might have to."

She looked away and thought for a moment before lightly slapping his face and tearing off down the street laughing.

"You're dead, Carter!" Dean yelled chasing after her, but Carter had too much of a head start and she made it back to the room before he caught her. A strange sound from the inside, though, prevented her from going in.

"Damn, you're fast," Dean came walking up seconds later.

She smiled but then pointed to the door.

"What?" he asked, joining her against the door to listen.  
"Sounds like music...I think?" she furrowed her eyebrow.  
"Yeah, that's Sam's singing," Dean shook his head, backing away.  
"Wait," she caught his arm, "is that Miley Cyrus?"

They gave each other incredulous looks and quietly opened the door and peered in. Sam had his back to the door as he was messing with his laptop with Party in the USA screaming through the speakers. And sure enough, he knew the lyrics by heart and was letting it all out.

"_Too much pressure and I'm nervous,  
That's when the taxi man turned on the radio  
and a Jay Z song was on  
and the Jay Z song was on  
and the Jay Z song was on_" Sam ridiculously intoned.

Dean looked thoroughly embarrassed and Carter quickly slipped into the room behind Sam. At the chorus, Carter lifted Sam's arms up in the air and waved them around, joining in herself, "_So I put my hands up_, _They're playing my song_"

Sam whipped around, falling out of his chair in the process and making Dean cackle with amusement. Carter jumped up on the bed and continued singing and dancing, "_Noddin' my head like yeah, Moving my hips like yeah, And I got my hands up, They're playin my song I know I'm gonna be ok Yeah, It's a party in the USA_ _Yeah, It's a party in the USA_" she bellowed and danced, letting go all inhibitions, if just for that moment.

She fell back onto the bed and laughed at the look Dean was giving her and at Sam's still beet-red face. Sam finally turned off the song and stuffed his laptop in its case. Silence enveloped the room as Sam unsurely stood waiting for Dean to say something and Carter propped herself up on the bed.

"Miley Cyrus. Really Sam?"


	18. Chapter 17

**I feel really badly when I don't update this one! I just get so wrapped up in my other stories that this one just gets forgotten. Fear not my faithful readers! I **_**know**_** an ending for this one, it's all just a matter of getting there...**

**Anyway here's a new chapter! **

* * *

"You're a freaking ass!" Carter yelled, slamming the door behind her and Dean.

Grinning to himself, Dean pulled out a beer from the mini fridge and made himself comfortable on his bed. Carter growled and beat him with a pillow.

"Don't just smirk and ignore me! You _cheated_! You owe me two-hundred bucks, Dean!"

Dean tore the pillow out of her hands and started beating her with it. She tried swatting it away from him but couldn't. So, she tackled him onto his bed and started fighting with him.

"Give me my money!" she punched him in the chest.  
"You lost your money, Barbie, that's not my fault," he tried pinning her squirming body.

They both let out a small yell as they tumbled off the bed but then resumed their little wrestling match. Sam soon walked in and rolled his eyes at the two, walking right back out.

After three more weeks of hunting with Carter, these little squabbles were a regular thing.

They fought and argued about everything. Carter would take down a fang and Dean would bark at her for stealing his kill. Dean would fight a demon off Carter, and Carter would roar about not being helpless. A lot of the time they ended up giving each other a few good shiners and some pretty ugly scrapes.

"You told the other players my hand, ya jackass!" her fist caught his jaw in a heavy punch.

Dean chuckled, knowing he totally duped Carter. He dodged her punch and pinned her wrist on the ground, flipping her over.

"Payback's a bitch," he smirked, leaning over her.  
"Payback for what? Schooling you in pool every time you ask for a rematch?" she head-butted him and kicked him off of her.

He stayed on the floor and panted while Carter leaned against the bed and angrily kicked his legs away from her one last time. Dean sat up, moodily massaging his face. He got up and went over to the computer to research new jobs, but not before swiftly kicking Carter's foot.

She angrily muttered to herself, pulling her own laptop out and turning up some Cobra Starship. Dean, clearly annoyed, impatiently drummed his fingers on the table. Carter began singing with it, and to counter the volume of her voice she _obviously_ had to turn the music up louder.

"Do you mind turning that down?" Dean finally asked.  
"Nah I don't mind!" she called above the music, turning it up even more.

Dean smacked his hand on the table, a deep growl emanating from his throat.

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" he accused, standing and pointing a finger at her.  
"Because you're such a saint, right?" she fired back, her laptop bouncing on the bed in her wake.  
"I have no trouble hitting a girl," he darkly spat.  
"Good!" she shoved him in the chest, "Why don't you then?" she heaved again, making him stumble back, "You said you have no problem hitting me!" she outright punched him in the face.

The metallic taste of blood filled Dean's mouth and the sticky liquid on his fingers confirmed she split his lip. He glowered at her smirking face.

"You asked for it."

Dean's arm came swinging and caught Carter's face. She fell hard on the floor, stars swimming in her eyes. She wasted no time scrambling back up and tackling Dean. The weight of the two together, bashed the door right open and the two went tumbling out onto the concrete of the parking lot. Carter flipped herself back up and held her hands up, ready to fight. Dean lumbered to his feet, taking free shots at the girl in front of him.

"Come on, Dean!" she dodged his fist and bent his body over her knee, "It was so _easy_ for you in Hell!"

It was a low blow but Carter was sick and tired of him.

His elbow jabbed her nose, and she soon felt the warm blood ooze down her face. Carter had struck a nerve in Dean and this fight quickly took a turn that the others hadn't. He struck her hard and fast, leaving no time for her to retaliate. Her only defense was to dodge as many shots as she could.

"You're all talk, Carter!" he roared, cornering her against the Impala, "You act all helpless and scared of men! 'Oh my parents abused me so it's ok for me to be a whiny bitch!' 'Oh Dean those guys scare me, PROTECT me because it's not like I can take down a demon ALL ON MY OWN!'" he caught her jaw and she fell back onto the hood of the Impala.

Anger welled up inside Carter, and she brutally kicked him away.

"Shut UP! You have no idea what I went through!" she round-housed his face, knocking him flat on his ass.  
"AND YOU'RE NO DIFFERENT THAN THEM! YOU TORTURED ME IN HELL! YOU DIDN'T CARE WHO IT WAS, YOU JUST DUG YOUR BLADE IN THEIR STOMACH AND ENJOYED THEIR PAIN AND MISERY, IGNORING THEIR CRIES TO STOP!" she screamed at him, tears burning the corners of her eyes.

His foot kicked her legs out from under her and she cracked her head hard on the pavement. Dean stood over her, his chest heaving up and down.

"It makes sense now! I DON'T BLAME TODD ONE BIT FOR DESERTING YOUR SORRY ASS," he coldly jeered, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve.

Carter shamefully covered her face, hiding the tears that were falling. All the anger swept away from her with those few words. She was pissed, but a cold indifference hit her like a ton of bricks. She pushed herself to her feet and defiantly looked up at Dean with watery eyes.

"Fine," she quietly challenged, "I'm leaving."

A wave of realization hit Dean as she turned away from him.

"Carter..." he started, watching from the door as she piled all of her things into her duffel.  
"Fuck you, Dean."

Her voice was so monotone and uncaring, it scared him.

"Carter, stop it," he ordered taking the bag away from her.  
"I'm nothing to you anyway! I can take care of myself," she trailed off, ripping her bag out of Dean's hands.

He saw her reaching for her laptop and he beat her to it, holding it above his head.

"You're staying," he moved it away as she tried jumping for it.  
"No," she punched his stomach, grabbing her computer as he doubled over.

Her patience was slowly falling out of her capability as he kept trying to make her stay. She could feel the anger boil in her stomach again. It quickly spread throughout her body and controlled her thoughts. Dean, once again, grabbed at the things in her bag, putting them back in the drawers. Another growl escaped from Carter's lips, and she had a gun pointed at Dean's head before he even knew what was happening.

Gun still pointed at him, she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Move," she ordered.

Dean swallowed hard, hands up defensively, but didn't move.

"I'm not letting you leave," he calmly said.  
"Back. Off."  
"You're not going to shoot me," he shook his head.  
"Wanna bet?" she cocked the gun and adjusted her aim.

He still stood there, eyes staring right into Carter's.

"Dammit, Dean! MOVE!" she fired the gun at the corner of the room, drywall crumbling to the ground.

"ENOUGH!" a new voice roared from the busted doorway. Carter's gun flew out of her hand and into the open palm of Castiel. She charged past Dean, bag still in hand, and up to Cas.

"I'm done with all the stupid angel crap and the apocalypse. Let the world burn. I've gone through enough," she hissed.  
"No you're not," he stated, not fazed by the seething rage that lined her voice.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room.

"The two of you," he looked at Dean as well, "Need to start cooperating with each other. I told both you that you need to tolerate each other and stay together. And so far, all you have succeeded in is beating each other bloody!" Castiel roared, clearly irritated.

The two hunters risked a glance at each other and shifted uncomfortably at the sight of their beaten bodies. Cas sighed, regaining his usual demeanor.

"You two had better start getting along. Or it will be Zachariah who comes down next time," he warned, pressing his hand on each of the hunters' heads. Carter felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her. The cold feeling slinked down her entire body all the way down to her fingertips. By the time it reached her feet, she felt like there was a slight force, tugging her in Dean's direction.

"Consider this your only warning," Cas said, disappearing from sight.

Carter let out a frustrated sigh, tossing her bag in the corner.

"What was that about?" Dean wondered aloud, looking to Carter.

She made a noise of disgust, shaking her head and walking around Dean to the bathroom. She quickly found that she couldn't reach the door, something was stopping her. Only a foot separated her from the bathroom door. She tried lunging toward the door and heard a thud from behind her.

"Hey!" Dean groaned from the floor.  
"Oh. My. God," her eyes widened in horror at the conclusion she came to.

Dean looked from his spot on the floor to the door Carter could now reach, his eyes widening as he came to the same conclusion. Carter groaned, hauling Dean to his feet.

"Stay," she commanded as if he were a dog.

He rolled his eyes and watched as she step-by-step walked away from him. The further she walked away the more of a tug they each felt. Carter tried to take another step but found she couldn't. She turned around and cursed under her breath. Three measly, little feet now stood between her and Dean.

"Oh you gotta be kidding," he said, "Forcing us to be closer is not going to make us like each other, it's just going to make it easier for us to fight," he laughed as if it was some sort of joke.

Carter folded her arms across her chest and darkly glared at him. For the time being, she refused to talk to that man. What he said went down to the core and hurt her real badly. She brushed past him, already forgetting he had to come with her into the bathroom.

"Come on," she pointed to the door, patience long gone.  
"You're not...like...y'know," he uncomfortable insinuated.

She incredulously looked at him.

"No! Are you stupid or something? Look what you did to my face!" she barked.  
"Okay! Okay, just calm down," he passed her into the bathroom.

She shook her head, tongue in cheek, and followed Dean. They were quite a sight for sore eyes. Sweat, dirt and blood, was smudged everywhere and Carter could feel it in her hair where she hit her head. She grabbed a wad of gauze and winced as she pressed it on her head.

"You're lucky I'm not concussed," she grumbled, as Dean tended to a large gash on his shoulder.  
"You're lucky I went easy on you," he pointed out.

She scoffed, though entirely recognizing he could've done much worse. He saw her wincing as she looked at the bloody gauze pad. Ignoring her protests, Dean picked her up by the waist and sat her on the counter.

"Stop your whining," he sneered, pressing a new gauze pad to her head.

Exhaling deeply, she saw blood soaking his shirt where his shoulder gash was.

"Looks like you'll need a few stitches," he observed, digging through the first aid kit searching for a needle and thread.  
"I can do it myself," she lamely objected.  
"Just sit still," he said, threading the needle.  
"Do you have another one of those?" she pointed to the needle.  
"Yeah, why?" he carefully began his stitches.  
"You're bleeding through your shirt," she told him.

He finished the stitch he was working on and gazed down. He shrugged and made to work on Carter. She rolled her eyes and held his hands back.

"Stop for a sec," she dropped them, "Pull off your shirt."

He gripped the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over his head. Carter looked up from her raid on the first-aid and paused. Her breath was caught in her chest as she saw Dean's slightly tanned hunter's body. She swallowed hard, looking back up to him.

"You okay?" he asked, not aware that her sudden stiffness was from her checking him out.  
"Yeah," she gulped, beckoning him to her with the threaded needle.

He pushed her knees open wider so they could get closer to each other's wounds. Shivers ran down Carter's spine as he leaned between her legs and she stole one more look at his bare chest. This time, Dean saw, and a smirk quickly tugged at the corners of his lips.

Carter mentally slapped herself. Dean was no different than all the other guys she had met. She knew this; she had seen the way he was with women. He wouldn't hesitate to treat her the same way had she been like other women. So why should she feel normal around him?

Dean finished up Carter's stitches and dropped the needle in the sink. He stood there, hands on either side of Carter, and examined the rest of her face.

"I'm sorry I shot at you," she finally said voice quiet and little, Dean feeling her breath flush against his cheek. He made a note of how it smelled like cinnamon.

He chuckled, "It's not the first time it's been done."

She smiled, applying a bandage to his shoulder. He checked out his shoulder.

"Nice work," he complimented, standing up straight. Though, Carter noticed his place squeezed between her legs. She gathered up a wet wash cloth and scrubbed Dean's face.

"Was that really necessary?" he frowned.

She giggled and shrugged her shoulders. But her smile faded as she remembered the things that were said. Dean rung out the cloth and leaned forward again, gently cleaning her face. He could wipe away the damage he did, but the scars that marred her face from her father would be there forever.

"I didn't mean what I said," he sighed, placing a few butterfly bandages on a couple minor cuts.

She couldn't say it was okay. Her words were caught in her chest and emotion welled up in her eyes.

"You really hurt me," she whispered, looking up at him with teary eyes.

Dean's heart jolted and he wondered if that's the way she sounded after her father hurt her. She wiped them away and took up a new cloth to Dean's busted lip, fresh tears tumbling down her cheeks.

"I know," he said, the cloth falling from her grasp, leaving her slender fingers on his lips.

She paused, slowly sliding her fingertips up the side of his face. Dean closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of her soft touch glide over his face and through his hair. Her hand stopped, cupping his face. His eyes fluttered open. He found that his one hand had somehow found its way to her waist and the other was tangled in her hair and that his lips were mere inches from hers. The hand on her waist ran over the side of her body and up to her face, brushing back her hair. Dean, in one move, wet his lips and leaned in to kiss her.

"Dean," she barely said, instantly stopping his move.

He looked at her, seeing more tears cascading down her cheeks. It wasn't alright with her that he tried kissing her. He may have thought it was the right moment, but Carter was still hurt by those words.

"What the hell happened?" they heard Sam's voice from out in the room.

Dean was quick to see how wildly inappropriate his position between her legs was and shifted to the other side of the counter.

"Bathroom, Sam!" Dean called to his brother.

Carter wiped off her face, hoping Sam couldn't tell she was crying. The tall Winchester held the sides of the door frame and examined his brother's and Carter's battered state.

"I was gone ten minutes. What the hell went on here?" he asked again, rushing to Carter and checking over her face.

She pushed his hand away, "I'm fine, Sam."

Sam looked to his brother for answers. Dean sheepishly smiled.

"We fought," Dean tried making it sound as harmless as possible.

Sam looked absolutely appalled that Dean could've done such a thing.

"Dean, what were you thinking?" he rounded on his brother.

Dean open and closed his mouth unable to form words.

"She pulled a gun out on me!" he pointed at Carter.

She made an 'oh-shit' look that made Dean chuckle to himself. Sam gazed between the two.

"I don't believe you two!" he threw up his hands, "I can never leave you guys alone."  
"Don't worry, Sam, we've already been ordered to behave," Carter guiltily wrung her hands.  
"By who?" he asked, anger ebbing away.  
"Cas," Dean straightened up, nodding to Carter.

She sighed and hopped off the counter, making to leave the bathroom but stopping just outside the door. She pushed forward, causing the invisible tether between them to pull on Dean.

"Can we sit down?" she pleaded, looking right at Dean.

Dean slid off the counter and trailed after her. She sat down and saw that Dean was still standing.

"I need another shirt. Unless you don't mind me not wearing one," he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes and moved over a few feet so Dean could reach the drawer containing his clothes. He wiggled his way into a simple gray t-shirt, sitting on the end of the bed and kicking off his shoes.

"So you two can't go more than three feet from each other?" Sam amusedly asked, seeing how they moved.  
"It's not funny," Dean grumbled.  
"Yeah it is," Sam smiled, holding back a laugh.

Carter violently threw a pillow in his direction, perfectly smacking him in the face.

Dean smirked, "It's nice not to be on the receiving end for once."


	19. Chapter 18

**Haha I love you readers, I actually **_**dreamed**_** about this story last night. That hasn't happen in a while. Anyway, here's another chapter because I just feel bad when I don't update this one!**

**FYI, the mature rating definitely applies to this one...nobody is hooking up it's just a disturbing subject matter... **

* * *

"You are not coming in with me," Carter folded her arms across her chest.  
"I don't have a choice! It's not like I want to sit in there," Dean defended himself.

Carter raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well then you can't shower," Dean pointed out.  
"There's blood in my hair," she whined.  
"Then I'm going to have to sit in there while you shower," Dean forced back the smirk that was just itching to line his lips.

Sam amusedly listened to their argument, lazily flipping through the channels on the TV.

"Grab your clothes. As long as we're in there you might as well take one too," she decided.

Dean opened his mouth.

"Not _with_ me, you pervert!" she shoved a towel in his arms.

Grinning to himself, Dean followed Carter into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and set down her towel. Dean followed suit and hopped up on the counter.

"Don't look," she shyly told him.  
"Ok," he obliged, faintly turning his head away as she turned her back to him.

He heard her shirt flop on the ground, and he could only humor her for so long. He chanced a look at her and saw as she reached around her back to unclasp her bra and drop it to where her jeans were already crumpled up on the ground. Dean's eyes roamed her small, lithe body, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes locked on the glossy hand print still on her shoulder.

"Nice scar," he said without thinking.

She glared at him over her shoulder.

"I swear to God, Dean, if you don't close your eyes I will castrate you in your sleep," she snarled through gritted teeth.

His eyes quickly snapped shut, and he heard her get into the shower.

"Why hasn't it faded?" Dean asked above the drone of falling water.  
"How the hell should I know?" she called back.

Dean rolled his eyes, letting a silence fall between them. Shortly after, the water stopped and Carter rung out her hair in the tub.

"Can you hand me my towel?" she asked from behind the curtain.  
"Why don't you come out here and get it?" Carter could just picture the smug smirk on his face.  
"Just give me my towel, jackass, _without looking_," she emphasized.  
"Fine!" he sighed, reaching for her towel.

But he found he couldn't reach it.

"Carter, you're going to have to come out. I can't reach," he seriously said.  
"Seriously?" she popped her head out to see if he was lying, but there he was, hand outstretched trying to reach the towel that was at least another foot away.

"Ugh! Close your damn eyes!" she shouted.

Dean found this amusing, and clapped a hand over his eyes, laughing. He heard her tiptoe out of the shower and felt a wet smack across his head.

"Ow!" he turned his head in her direction, hand still covering his eyes.

She smirked and wrapped her towel around her dripping body. Carter grumbled, seeing that the towel barely covered her ass.

"Stupid hotel towels," she muttered.  
"What was that?" Dean asked.

She looked at him and chuckled, seeing that his hand was still hiding his eyes.

"You can uncover your eyes now," she told him.  
"Finally! How long does it take you to wrap a...towel...around-"

Dean didn't finish his sentence. He uncovered his eyes to see Carter casually leaning against the wall, one arm above her on her head, the other resting on the leg she had propped against the wall behind her.

"You can stop drooling, Lancelot," she smirked, pushing herself off the wall and lightly slapping Dean's face.

"Get in the shower, I forgot to grab clothes," she said as if it was no big deal and turning around for Dean.

The curtain rattle behind her and the pipes groaned as the water came thundering down.

A small yelp came from Dean as he was hit with icy water, making Carter laugh.

"Shut up, Carter!" he yelled.

Dean's shower was even shorter than Carter's. She heard the pipes shifting once again and turned around. She saw that his towel was where hers was.

"Can't reach, Dean," she told him before he even asked.  
"Oh well," he lamely relented, stepping out.

Carter could sense him behind her and felt his hand on her shoulder and his other hand reaching around her for the towel.

"Couldn't reach, huh?"

She turned around before he wrapped the towel around his waist. But she wasn't looking down. She was looking in his hazel-green eyes.

"Turn around, Carter," he smirked, but tied the towel around his waist.

She did but to hide her distraught look. Her head was full of ten kinds of confusion. The ones most prominent were of her and Dean, but then the other ones were of the memories of her father. Her hand moved to her face as her stress mounted.

"Hey, I was just kidding around. Are you alright?" Dean asked, his hand softly squeezing her shoulder.  
"I'm fine," she said, masking her emotions, "Put your clothes on, Lancelot, geez."

He saw straight through her, but smirked anyway and slipped on his boxers underneath his towel. Carter walked out into the room, steam trailing behind her and Dean. She was met with an eyeballing from Sam. She gave the younger Winchester a look that sent his eyes back to the TV. Carter sorted through her duffel, looking for a clean pair of pajamas.

"We're going to have to do laundry," she noted, looking up at Dean, "I don't have a shirt to wear."

Dean rummaged through his drawer and pulled out a green button-up.

"Will this work?" he held it up to her.  
"I suppose," she sighed, grabbing a pair of shorts and walking to the bathroom.

Dean tailed after her, expecting to go in with her, but she slammed the door in his face.

"You don't have to come in. I can just stand close to the door," she grinned, pulling on her clothes and Dean's shirt.

The shirt was far too big for her, falling past her shorts and hanging loosely around the neck. Looking in the mirror, she couldn't help but think that Dean gave her this particular shirt on purpose. Dean nearly fell on her as she opened the door but she had side-stepped and he fell on his face. She casually leaned on the door frame, smirking at him.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were hoping to fall on _me_," she smirked.

He glared up at her and was about to say something but instead simply stared at her.

"I'm tired, Dean, can we stop the whole 'shamelessly checking out Carter' thing?" she sighed, making a pouty face that Dean couldn't help but find adorable.  
"Whoever said I was checking you out?" he stood, raising an eyebrow at her.

She merely turned a smile on her face. Dean shook his head and went to lie on the bed but he felt a tug toward Carter by the chair.

"What? Did you think I was going to sleep in the same bed as you?" she scoffed, dragging the chair over to the side of Dean's bed.

Sam, settling himself in the other bed, laughed at the face Dean made, knowing exactly that's what his brother was thinking. Carter curled up in her blanket on the chair and stole a pillow from Dean's bed.

"Hey!" he objected.  
"Like you're going to use four pillows," she rolled her eyes.

Grumbling at the loss of a pillow, Dean pulled the blankets over him and turned out the light. After twenty minutes, Carter was about to fall asleep when she was abruptly pulled out of the chair as Dean rolled to the far side of the bed. Cursing to herself, as she realized what she would have to do, Carter shook Dean awake.

"What?" he hissed.  
"You pulled me out of the chair!" she furiously whispered back.

They angrily gazed at one another for a moment.

"Move over," she said.  
"What?"  
"I'm not going to be falling out of the chair all night," Carter admonished, sticking her legs under the blanket next to Dean.

"You couldn't have worn more clothes," she groaned, feeling Dean's bare legs and chest.  
"Because you're so much better," he shot back.  
"At least my legs are smooth," she retorted.

Dean had no comeback. He rolled on his side, facing Carter's back close enough to smell the scent of strawberries that lingered in her hair from her shower.

"I am so weirded out right now," Carter said as she could feel Dean behind her.  
"Me too, I have no idea where to put my arms," he hopelessly said as they were smooshed against his body.

Carter yawned in response. She wasn't that tired, though. Her thoughts were everywhere and it kept her awake. Dean's restlessness beside her told her that he was having trouble falling asleep too.

"Hey, Dean," she quietly spoke.  
"Hm?" he grunted.  
"You weren't totally wrong, before, when we were fighting," she admitted, rolling on her other side to face him.

He opened his eyes and stared at her through the dark.

"About what?" he whispered back.  
"About me being afraid of men and being able to hold my own," she explained.  
"Carter, I was pissed at you..."  
"But you were right. I guess I was just so used to be controlled when I was little that I just kind of fall back into that state when I'm around guys, not realizing that I've fought off worse," she sighed.

She looked him in his hazel-green eyes. She surprised him and herself when she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He was somewhat disappointed when she rolled back over and left him to figure out what that meant. But the draw of sleep soon overtook Dean's eyes and he was fast asleep.

Carter, on the other hand, fell into a deep and uneasy sleep, dreaming about her father and what would've happened had she been chained to him.

_He was drunk again and he had been fighting her. Carter had tried to fight back using the news skills she had acquired while hunting, but her dad seemed to be even stronger than when she was a child. Castiel came and for a moment Carter thought she would be saved. _

_"You two need to learn to get along," he said, tying an invisible rope between them, "This should do the trick."_

_The angel vanished, leaving Carter crying out his name. Jason, her father, blatantly stared_ _at the fully matured body lying on the floor in front of him. And she couldn't run either. The disgusting smirk on his face told Carter that it was like a dream come true for him. Carter's scream filled her own ears as he took her right there. _

_And then they were in the bathroom, just as she and Dean had been. _

_"You have to get undressed to take a shower," he sickly smiled. _

_Carter couldn't control the tears spilling down her face as she wondered where Dean Winchester was and prayed he would come to save her._

_"DEAN!" she bawled as Jason Augustine began undressing her himself. _

_"Oh, he can't hear you in here," he spoke, his lips pressed against her bare neck, hands all over her now exposed body._

_Her heart thundered in her chest and sweat sodden her entire body. Jason aggressively pushed himself against her and pressed his lips against hers. _

_"You've changed a lot since coming back from hell," he smirked against her mouth. _

_She shoved him away from her, but the bond stopped him only a couple feet from her. _

_"You can't get rid of me, Carter," he grinned, whipping her into the shower. _

_Her screams to stop fell on deaf ears as her father did the unforgivable. Even her flailing limbs and cries for Dean would not stop what the man was doing. _

_"Carter!" she heard Dean's voice. _

"Carter!"

Her eyes snapped open and found she was being pinned by Dean, though, in the dim light she was confused and frantically kicked him off her. He rebounded and swiftly held her face between his hands.

"Carter, it's me! It's Dean!" he yelled.

Carter stopped struggling and her eyes adjusted to see Dean's terribly concerned face. Her chest heaved up and down from her panting so hard.

"Dean?" she whimpered, body on high alert from the high amounts of adrenaline surging through her small body.

A cold sweat wet her clothes, and her body was noticeably trembling. She glanced at the other bed to see that Sam was nowhere to be found, something that deeply bothered Dean.

"You were screaming and fighting in your sleep," Dean told her, soothingly running his thumb over the side of her face.

Carter tightly shut her eyes and was faced with the dreadfully vivid images of her nightmare. She opened them, releasing an onslaught of tears.

"Dean," she choked, clutching at his arms.  
"What is it?" he worriedly asked, seeing her start to cry, "Carter, you're shaking. What's wrong? Was it hell?"  
"He just kept going! He wouldn't stop touching me. You weren't there!" she sobbed.

Dean brought the frightened girl onto his lap and she gamely wrapped her arms around him and cried into his chest.

"I'm here now. He's not going to hurt you," he comforted, burying his face into her hair. Nothing that happened between them mattered anymore. The fighting, the bickering, none of it. Carter trusted Dean and it was _his_ name that she called when she was scared. And Dean took that to heart, promising himself that he would _always_ be there for her.


	20. Chapter 19

**Just want to get this update out before I have to study for my macroeconomics exam. **

**Also, be safe London...things are crazy now but they'll get better**

* * *

"Yeah I know where they are...No...Todd, why would I go and tell you that?" Bobby Singer glanced at the Winchesters and the frightened Augustine.

"Come on, Carter," Dean pressed, taking hold of her small hand.

After Carter's nightmare, a bad feeling dawned over the girl, and she urged Dean to ditch the case they were working on in Minnesota and drive to Bobby's. Sam came back an hour after they decided they were leaving, and Dean had a few choice words for his brother. Carter found out that this had been going on for some time. Sam would leave in the middle of the night without rhyme or reason and show up a few hours later. Dean had given up trying to figure out what he was doing, but it still irked him.

Anyway, it turned out that Todd Augustine had been hot on their tail, hunting Carter. He had heard that she was hunting with the Winchesters and has been tracking her since. He showed up at their room a half a day after they left, and he was now on the phone with Bobby.

Dean took Carter away from the heated conversation Bobby was having with her brother. She didn't need to hear it as far as he was concerned. Carter grabbed a throw pillow and curled up at the end of the couch as far from Dean as she could. Dean could tell she was still plagued by that nightmare. She hadn't slept once since coming to South Dakota and her body could only fend off exhaustion for so long. He carefully watched her as she idly stared out the window. Bobby and Sam came walking in, drawing Dean's attention away from Carter.

"He's definitely on the hunt for her," Bobby told them what they had all ready guessed.  
"Is there any chance he'd come here looking for her?" Dean asked.  
"He'd be a major idjit to try," Bobby crossed his arms over his chest.  
"We should hang out here awhile. She'll be safer," Sam suggested.

"Stop talking like I can't hear you," she challenged, "Todd won't come. He's too stupid to realize we're all here. Even if he did, he wouldn't dare go after Bobby."

"Then we _should_ stay for a while," Sam looked to Bobby for permission and he nodded.  
"Whatever," Carter dismissed it, standing up, "I want to walk outside," she told Dean.

He sighed, standing next to Carter.

"I guess we're going for a walk," Dean told Sam and Bobby, shrugging his shoulders.

The two hunters silently strolled among the piles of junked cars, shadowed by the setting sun just below the horizon. They stopped around the edge of Bobby's land, Dean leaning against a rusty, Chevy Astro van and Carter lying out on the dewy grass. She folded her hands over her stomach and gazed up at the darkening sky. After a few minutes of debating whether or not he should join her, Dean sighed and lay on his back next to her.

"My life is a joke," she cynically chided, not taking her eyes from the small white stars.

Dean folded his arms behind his head and looked up into the sky.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be totally unaware of what goes on?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.  
"All the time," he confessed, also looking at her.  
"If you had the chance, would you live without all this?" she turned and propped her head up.

Dean thought about the Djinn he had encountered and how that life was drastically different.

"It's crossed my mind from time to time."  
"Well I would," she said, looking back to the sky, "I would in a heartbeat."

"My mom would always have been there, my dad wouldn't have done those things to me," she dreamed, closing her eyes to fight the stinging of tears in the corners of her eyes, "Todd and I would've happily grown up together, I would be in college now," she smiled, the tears streaking down to into the grass.

Carter took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, back to reality.

"All the people you saved would be dead," Dean reminded her.

She knew what he said was true, but she still couldn't help but wonder what life would've been like without the hunt.

"But it's so hard," her emotions made her voice shake, "And I'm alone. Deserted by everyone I cared about."

Dean reached out and drew the small girl closer to him, "You're not alone, Carter. Look where you are. Bobby, Sam, and I are on your side," he soothed, stroking her hair.

Despite herself, Carter let out a small laugh, "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

Dean looked down at her, saw that she was smiling, and shook his head.

"What are you talking about? I'm awesome."  
"You suck at moments like these," she smirked, sweeping her hair behind her ear as she sat up.  
"Shut up, Barbie," he smiled.

Carter rolled her eyes and brushed her tears away, looking across the vast yard at the small, specks of light in Bobby's house.

"We should probably go back," she sighed.  
"Yeah, any longer and they'll think we're out here doing the nasty," he sat up.  
"You should get over yourself," Carter noted, pulling him off the ground.

Dean chuckled swinging his arm around her shoulders, "Oh come on, I'm adorable and you know you love me."

"Ha!" she derided, putting her arm around him as well.

Carter couldn't force down the smile on her face. Somehow, talking with Dean always managed to calm her down, she could relax and be happy.

_Maybe Cas knew what he was doing_, she thought later as she laughed with the other hunters as they ate takeout and watched America's Funniest Home Videos.

She looked at Sam, who was sitting on the floor with box of Chinese in his hand and eyes at the TV. Then she looked to Bobby, sitting in the corner of the room, rolling his eyes at the show than really laughing at it. Carter looked at Dean last. He had inhaled his food faster than anyone and was happily mocking the show as only Dean could.

Carter smiled when he caught her looking at him.

"Are you going to finish that?" he pointed to her sesame chicken.  
"Here. Eat it, you oinker," she laughed, handing him the container.

_I guess they aren't so bad_, she told herself, laughing at Dean, who had just spilled rice all over himself.

* * *

"Okay, you're feet are not going to be in my face all night," Carter said, face written with disgust.

Sam had taken the spare room, leaving Dean and Carter to duke it out on the couch.

"The floor is always an option," Dean reminded her, yanking the blanket off her upper body.  
"You could fall on me," she whined, grasping for the edge of the blanket.  
"I'm not going to fall on you," he chuckled.  
"I'm still not going to sleep on _Bobby's_ floor," she insinuated.

"What's wrong with that?" he asked, sitting up.  
"When do you think the last time he washed his floor was?" she raised an eyebrow.

Dean glanced at the dirty floor.

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" he crossly asked.

Carter flung her pillow to his side of the couch, not-so-unintentionally hitting Dean's face.

"Move over," she crawled over his legs and lay on the inside of the couch.

Dean was lying on his back and Carter was on her side, facing Dean.

"Now what, smartass?" Dean asked, knowing Carter didn't like being close to him.

But she surprised him when she draped her arm over his chest and snuggled into his shirt. She placed his arms around her and wrapped her arm back on his chest.

"Your arms go anywhere other than here, I'll—"  
"Yeah, I know, you'll castrate me in my sleep," he humored her, comfortably closing his eyes.

* * *

Dean woke up the next morning, instantly noticing the lack of another body with him.

"Mornin' Sunshine," Sam came walking in, a cup of coffee in his hand.  
"Where's Carter?" Dean groaned, sitting up.  
"Outside, working on a car with Bobby," he strangely smiled.

Dean shot him one back and threw the covers aside.

"What are you looking at?" he frowned.

Sam smiled again, sipping his coffee, "You two looked adorable."

"Oh brother," Dean rolled his eyes, retrieving his own coffee.  
"I mean it, man, there was some serious spooning going on," Sam beamed, following his brother.

Dean sent Sam a stern look only succeeding in making him laugh.

"So Cas' little magic trick wore off?" Dean noted, ignoring Sam's chuckles and sipping his black coffee.  
"Guess so," Sam shrugged.

"Hey boys," Bobby came in from out back, wiping his hands of oil.  
"Hey Bobby," they both greeted.

"How's the car coming?" Sam asked.  
"Slow. Car's beat to hell, smashed in a street race. She's insistent on rebuilding it though," grumbling at the empty pot of coffee.  
"Whoa, wait. _Carter's_ under the hood of a car? _Carter_? The girl who blatantly sneers at my baby?" Dean incredulously asked.  
"Yeah," Bobby slowly answered.  
"I've got to see this," Dean set down his coffee and quickly got dressed.

"_For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way_," Dean heard the lyrics of Led Zeppelin resound out of the stereo of what's left of a silver 2008 Mustang Shelby GT.

Carter's blue Converse stuck out from under the car and were smudged with oil. A crumpled oil pan came flying out from under the car, followed by Carter. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, face splotched with grease and sweat, much like the rest of her body. Singing and air drumming to "Ramble On," she wiped her hands on her white ribbed tank top, and American Eagle denim shorts.

Dean chuckled not believing what he was seeing.

"What are you doing?"

Carter slightly jumped at the sound of Dean's voice. She turned and tried brushing back her long bangs with the back of her hand.

"Glad you finally decided to wake up," she smirked.  
"Had to when I heard you were out here working on a car," he countered, "So you sit there and mock me for loving my beautiful, black '67 Impala but here you are, a little grease monkey yourself."

She batted his hand away.

"I'm not a car fanatic like you or Todd but I know my way under the hood. Besides, I'm getting sick of sitting behind fart-blossom one and two," she sat on the unscathed trunk.

Dean laughed knowing she was totally right.

"I saw this last night when we came back in. It didn't look _too_ bad. It needs a lot of new parts but I'll hopefully be able to get it running," she stood again, rounding the car to look under the hood.

Dean stood by, watching her work with great interest, maybe less in her mechanics but more in the way her lithe body moved under the hood. He could no longer deny the fact that Carter was utterly attractive and the oil smears covering her exposed skin only made Dean's blood pump even harder.

"Hey, Dean, the transmission filter is ripped to hell but I can't get it out. Can you come help?" her voice sounded on the other side of the car.  
"Yeah sure," he answered, more to himself than Carter.

She handed him the pair of gloves that in hindsight probably weren't the best fit for her hands. It only took Dean a couple tugs to get the stubborn filter out.

"Thanks," she beamed taking the gloves off his hands.  
"Nothing a man couldn't handle," he smirked.

Carter rolled her eyes, despite the smile on her lips. Dean bit his lower lip and turned his head as Carter bent under the hood again, showing off her nimble, slender body.

"Hey, Carter," Dean slowly started.  
"Yeah?" she replied, head buried somewhere among the various car parts.

When he didn't say anything, she came out of the car and looked at him.

"What?" she asked again.  
"Hey, maybe we could..." he began, quickly eyeing her up.

She curiously looked at him, "What, Dean?"

He had full intentions of throwing himself at her, but that last glance at her had deterred Dean from asking her what he really wanted. He hadn't noticed from afar the various scars that marred her skin that were reminders of what he did to her in hell.

"Eh, y'know what, nevermind," he flashed her a smile.  
"Ok?" she confusedly looked at him.

He looked back at her for a moment and turned, ashamed he had even thought about it. Carter stood there and watched him walk up the porch steps and bark at Sam, who was coming out with a water bottle in hand.

"What's up with him?" he asked, handing Carter the water.

"I have no idea," she shook her head.


	21. Chapter 20

**This one is nice and long...mostly because I didn't like where I made the break so I just decided to combine two updates. Eek! I also realized that I'm catching up to where I'm currently writing! **

**Once that happens updates will come far less frequent and for that I apologize. I might even disappear from the internet for months on end since classes start soon...**

**...Just a fair warning.**

* * *

"I'm getting bored," Dean announced to Bobby and Sam on the eleventh day.  
"We haven't been here _that_ long," Sam chuckled.  
"There's nothing to do!" Dean dropped his head in his arms.

Bobby grunted and stalked off.

"We could go to a club," Carter chimed in, walking inside from the nearly finished Mustang.  
"Don't you need to finish your project first," Dean noted, bringing his head up.

Carter frowned, "Fine. Go without me then. I was just giving you a suggestion."

Water bottle in hand, she returned outside to the car. Sam shook his head at his brother.

"What?" Dean defensively asked.  
"Dude, Carter wants to go out dancing," Sam said.  
"So?"  
"Dancing...pressed up against you...grinding..." Sam slowly explained, seeing if Dean would catch his drift.

A look of realization dawned on Dean and he hopped out of his seat, following Carter outside.

"Carter! Hold up!" he trotted out to her.  
"What?" she asked, slamming down the hood.  
"Maybe going out isn't such a bad idea," he unsurely started, "You could use a break."

She strangely looked at him, wiping her hands of oil.

"Why? I'm just about finished," she waved her hand at the car.  
"But you—really?" Dean distractedly looked at the almost perfect car, forgetting about the dancing and marveling at Carter's mechanics.  
"Yeah," she nodded with a slight smile at his ADD.

He shook his head and got himself back to the original point.

"Even still, we've been cooped up for over a week now..." he saw Carter's eyes narrow and look out into the rows of cars, "And we could all just—" she furiously clamped a tight hand over his mouth.

Dean finally noticed she was on high alert and began scanning the rows as well. A familiar cocking sound clicked somewhere out in the yard and Dean was able to tackle Carter to the ground as the bullet embedded itself in Dean's shoulder. They ducked behind the Mustang as more rounds were fired off, a couple shattering the windows.

"I just rebuilt that, you jackass!" she shouted, helping Dean into a crouching position.

The bullets made very little sound as they zipped overhead, telling the two hunters the gunner had a silencer. They looked at each other and plunged out from behind the car, scrambling into the house.

"Bobby! Sam!" Carter screamed, carefully placing Dean against the counter so she could lock the door and draw the curtains.

The other two hunters, sensing the urgency in Carter's voice, came rushing into the kitchen. Sam noticed his brother's bleeding shoulder and instantly took to his side.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked, swiftly glancing out the window.  
"Todd...he's here," Carter panted, knowing almost instantly it was him.

The guys all exchanged looks and Bobby disappeared in the other room, only to return pumping a shot gun and tossing it to Sam.

"Carter, get upstairs," Sam ordered.

She glanced at Sam and then at Dean, who sat on the floor clutching his shoulder.

"No way. You guys need my help," she shook her head.  
"Your brother is after _you_, Carter. The boy's not going to even think of hurting one of us," Bobby agreed with Sam.  
"A little late for that!" Dean groaned in his corner.  
"I'm not going. Just give me a gun and I'll be fine," she defiantly stood with her arms crossed over her chest.

Sam and Bobby exchanged a look, before Sam slung Carter over his shoulder.

"SAM! PUT ME DOWN! RIGHT! NOW!" she screamed and hollered all the way up to the spare bedroom.

Sam, not-so-gently, tossed her on the bed and locked the door behind him. Carter shrieked in frustration and buried her face in a pillow. Minutes passed and Carter heard nothing from down below. Curious at the silence, she crept over to the window, risking a glance outside. Todd was nowhere in sight, but that didn't mean he had gone. She silently wished she had a gun in her hands. Todd was a force to be reckoned with; years of hunting on his own had shaped a near-perfect hunter.

The sound of the door being unlocked clicked in Carter's ears and she sighed in a bit of relief.

"So what's the deal?" she asked, still looking out the window.

When she didn't hear a response, she turned to see her brother. She sighed again, seeing the gun hang loosely at his side. The two siblings gazed at one another in utter silence.

"You're not going to find us again," Carter said, just moments before Bobby hit Todd upside the head, knocking him out cold.

Carter shook her head and strode over her brother's limp form and out into the hallway.

She glared directly at Dean, "Me as bait was _your_ idea? Wasn't it?"

He chuckled as she smacked his unharmed shoulder, "We got him didn't we?"

"You waited long enough," she sneered, stomping her way down the stairs.

Bobby and Sam lugged Todd's unconscious form downstairs, cuffing and tying him to a kitchen chair. Dean splashed a cup of cold water in Todd's face, startling him awake. He blinked away the water and groaned as he could feel the lump already forming on the back of his head.

"You didn't think breaking into my house would be that easy, didja boy?" Bobby folded his arms over his chest.

Carter sat on the corner of the kitchen table, her back to her brother.

"I'm here for my sister. This doesn't concern any of you," Todd said.  
"It didn't until you shot me in the arm!" Dean grunted.

Things fell silent as nobody could say anything else. Carter could feel her brother's eyes staring her down and she was determined not to look at him. Todd cocked his head and scoffed with disgust at his sister.

"Can't even look at me, Carter?" he prodded.

She looked at him over her shoulder, a fierce look on her face. Staring right back, Todd shook his head.

"You're no better than the monsters you hunt," he growled.  
"How can you say that?" she hopped off the counter, stepping in front of him.

Tongue in cheek, Todd glared at Carter, anger lining his voice, "Is that a serious question?"

The Winchesters and Bobby idly stood by, carefully watching where this was going. Dean could see Carter's muscles tense up and intercepted her as she dove for Todd. He easily held her in place against her struggling.

"Carter, stop. Calm down," he repeated several times, holding her against his body.  
"Bangin' my sister too now are ya', Dean?" Todd shot.

Dean ignored his comment and focused on restraining Carter.

"How 'bout you, Sam? You doing Carter too? Since she seems to think everybody wants to get in her pants," he derided.  
"You think I made everything up! You think I _lied _about what Dad did? Does this look FAKED to you!" she screamed, fighting her way out of Dean's grasp and pressing her hands on Todd's temples.

Carter filled Todd's head with the exact memories of all the times Jason beat her and raped her. After mere seconds, Todd's body began to convulse and Dean pulled Carter away, who fell limp in his arms crying and panting. Todd's head hung as he breathed just as hard as Carter. He lifted his head up, beads of sweat on his brow.

"Mom said you would try something like that," Todd breathed.

A new pain grew in Carter as her body froze.

"Mom?" Carter choked.  
"Who do you think told me to come after you? She said you changed when you were in hell. You're a monster, Carter, you're not her daughter anymore," Todd snarled.

Carter's breath caught in her chest as she struggled to grasp the fact that her mother wanted her dead. Her mother had been the saving grace in her life, her one and only hope, and now that person is hunting for her blood.

"That's enough!" Dean barked.

Todd only smirked, "She's gotten to you more than I thought."

Dean punched the smirk right off his face, knocking the chair back in the process. He swiftly grabbed Carter and motioned for his brother.

"C'mon, Sam!"

Sam confusedly followed his brother and grunted as he caught his duffel bag Dean had thrown to him.

"Grab your bag," he ordered Carter.

She nodded and quickly grabbed her clothes and what little weapons she carried. Dean grabbed Carter's hand again when she returned and led the three to the Impala. Carter, almost frightened by Dean's aggressiveness, climbed into the back seat. The engine roared to life and Dean reversed out of the driveway.

"Wait!" Carter stopped him, seeing the Durango parked among the brush.

She kicked Sam's seat up and jumped out of the car. She quickly retrieved some of her favorite firearms that Todd neglected to throw out to her when he abandoned her.

"Let's go, Carter," Dean urged.  
"Don't get your boxers in a bundle! I'm coming," she quipped back at Dean, cradling an armful of weapons and tossing them in the trunk of the Impala.

"Ok drive," she ordered, buckling her seatbelt.

Dean drove for nearly ten hours straight, taking the most obscene routes possible, trying in any way possible to deter Todd. They finally stopped at some arbitrary town in western Minnesota at yet another cheap motel. Carter instantly took to polishing her SIG-Sauer in silence, while Sam crashed into bed and Dean fumbled around the room.

"Are you ok?" Dean broke the silence, seeing her polish the gun for the fifth time.

She heard him, Dean knew she did, but she kept at it. Sighing, he sat at the foot of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.  
"There's nothing to talk about," she flatly said.

Dean sighed again, pulling an extra blanket from the closet and relaxing into the recliner. He knew how she felt, that feeling of abandonment. Carter was a tough girl, a bit naïve at times but nonetheless tough. But as Dean fell asleep to the sound of her repeatedly cleaning her firearm, he couldn't help but worry about her.

* * *

Carter sighed, slamming her laptop shut and checking the clock on the wall. It had been six hours since the boys left, investigating a new case. Because she wanted to be alone and she wasn't convinced anything was going on, Carter stayed behind. Carter scanned the jobs she had laid out in front of her on her bed, nothing really jumping out at her. Since the events in Ohio, the hunters had heard nothing from the angels or heard anything about the seals, but Carter was beginning to get the feeling like that was going to change.

Her ears twitched as the sound of the door opened, Dean the first one in, looking quite temperamental. Sam followed, almost as perturbed as his brother and both were carrying large paper bags. Dean carelessly dumped the contents of his bag all over Carter's research. She shot him an angry look, without saying a word, not bothering to look at what was scattered all over her bed.

"Who said you could invade my bed, Lancelot?" she accused, jumping onto his back straight from her bed.

He tossed her onto the other bed, not humoring her playful mood.

"Not now, Carter," he snapped.

She frowned and looked to Sam for an explanation, but he was gravely surfing for something on the web. Dean sharply tugged off his coat and whipped his tie off, disappearing into the bathroom to change into his normal clothes.

"So there _is_ something going on here?" she asked, repositioning herself so she was sitting cross-legged.  
"You could say that," Sam vaguely replied.

Carter rolled her eyes and stood when Dean came back, noting that a pile of books is what he had emptied onto her bed.

"What did you guys find?" she asked Dean, eyeing up the books.  
"If you want to know what I think about not hunting, here—" he shoved a book in her chest, "—read this."

Carter looked at the cover of the book.

_Supernatural "What is and What Should Never Be" by Carver Edlund_

"What is this?" Carter asked to both of them.

Dean ran his hand over his face, grabbing for another book. Seeing Dean wasn't going to be any help, Carter turned to Sam.

"We went to investigate that bookshop and the guy at the register began telling us about these books about two hunters...Sam and Dean," he sighed.

Carter glanced down at the book in her hands.

"As far as we can tell, they're about the same hunts Dean and I have gone on in the past four years," he continued, standing and taking his turn in the bathroom to change.

Shifting her attention again, Carter looked to Dean, who was sprawled out on her bed already paging through a few different books. She opened the one in her hand and sat next to Dean. Sam soon returned to his computer. Hours passed and Carter found out more about the Winchesters than she ever needed to know. She was beginning to lose interest, though, and kept repositioning herself with Dean. Eventually, she ended up on his other side, lying comfortable next to him as he skimmed one entitled _Route 666._

"This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?" Dean voiced, turning his head to Sam.  
"You got me," the younger Winchester sighed.  
"Everything is in here. I mean _everything_. From the racist truck, to-to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

Carter wrinkled her nose, and slapped the book out of his hands. He rolled over and crossed to Sam.

"How come we haven't heard of them before?" Dean asked.  
"They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation...Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one _No Rest For The Wicked _ends with you going to hell," Sam explained.

Carter's eyes widened and she frantically rummaged through the mess of books, finding the final book. She wasn't interested in the whole novel, though, she skipped right to the end. With trembling fingers, she read page after page how Dean went to hell. She heard Sam and Dean talking, but it was just noise to her as she reached the final page. The final sentences ended with Dean being taken from the hooks and thrown into the cell he shared with _her_. It even went as far as to mention Carter, not necessarily by name, but by description. But Carter couldn't finish it.

"Somebody's gotta know who he is," Dean said, as he felt Carter rush past him. He caught sight of her jacket slip through the door as it slammed behind her.

He turned around, spotting _No Rest for the Wicked_ lying open on the floor.

"Oh no," he stood, ready to follow her but saw that Sam had already left the room.

"Carter! Carter stop!" Sam called after her, warily glancing at the darkening clouds.

She looked back at him before she started off on a run. Sam grumbled and sprinted after her, thunder beginning to rumble overhead. He soon caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

"What?" she yelled, violently throwing his arm off of her.  
"Carter, what did you read? Let me explain," he frantically started.  
"What are you talking about?" she irritatingly frowned at him.  
"You mean...you didn't...see—"  
"No! Not everything is about you and you're stupid little secret, Sam!" she yelled above the wind, starting to back away.  
"Then what is it? Let me help you, Carter," he outstretched his hand.

She looked at it and shook her head, remembering the last time she and Sam had their "special bonding time". He had kissed her when she was drunk and something about that bothered her.

"Stop trying to help me, Sam," she shook her head again.  
"Carter," he urged, taking hold of her hand.  
"I said leave me alone! I just want to be left alone!" she screamed, tearing her hand out of his grasp and running off.

Sam watched her go, slightly hurt and slightly annoyed. Dean could talk to her so easily, something that was completely uncharacteristic of him. The rain came pounding down, making it a lot more difficult to try and find Carter. So Sam went back to the room to reluctantly get Dean.

* * *

If Dean said he wasn't worried about Carter, he'd be lying. Sam and he had split up to cover more ground in the torrential weather and it gave him some time to think. He thought about how much she had surprised him in the past few weeks. From the simple things like her music of choice, to the complex like her maturity for such a young girl. They had finally connected, Dean realized, and her safety was important to him.

_Where does a depressed, nineteen year-old, hunter go when she wants to be alone?_ He wondered.

He mentally slapped himself in the face after that thought.

_She's a hunter. Where else do hunters go?_

He pulled into the parking lot of the nearest bar and hurried inside. Shaking off the rain, Dean stepped into the dimly lit bar, if you could call it that. It had more of a club atmosphere than a bar. That's when he spotted Carter and couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head in relief.

"I'm puttin' on my shades to cover up my eyes. I'm jumpin' in my ride, I'm headin' out tonight I'm solo, I'm ridin' solo. I'm ridin' solo, I'm ridin' solo, solo," she bellowed from atop the bar, dancing ridiculously with her own sunglasses on.

She was clearly drunk, but she didn't seem to be in any sort of trouble, other than the fact she was making a complete fool of herself. Carter finished her song and spotted Dean by the door. Her drunken stupor was shaken as she frowned, attempting to climb down from the bar. Dean rushed to her side, seeing that she was struggling.

"I got it," she lamely batted his hands away, nearly falling on her ass.  
"Carter, you're so far over the edge," Dean pointed out, seeing that she was more intoxicated that he originally thought.  
"I'll'ave you know Imnot in...inebriated," she pointed a finger at him, words slurring together.

Dean was no longer amused at her woozy state.

"C'mon, Carter, let's go back," he pressed, receiving another slap at his hand.  
"No! You and Sam think that you have to save me every time something goes wrong or I feel bad or I run off. Well you don't, okay? I'm fine by myself, I can take care of myself. You said so yourself, you said I could hold my own. So just leave me alone, I don't need you or Sam or Bobby or anybody!" she raved.

Dean glanced around and noticed that people were beginning to stare in an unfriendly way.

"C'mon," he whispered, pulling her tight into his chest and embracing her. Almost instantly, he felt her relax under his arms.  
"I could practically see you die in my head," she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "It was like I was actually there, watching the hell hounds do those awful things."

"I know. This isn't the best place to talk about this," he peered around the bar again, slowly starting to lead Carter out.  
"And then you were in hell. It brought back all those memories. And then I was at the end. Dean, I was written in the last little bit. Reading about you in hell was bad but this guy knows about me too," she whimpered, as they stepped outside.

Dean stopped and looked down at her.

"What do you mean you were 'written in?'" he asked.  
"They took you off the hooks and put you into the cell that you shared with me. Don't you remember? I barely do. I remembered it a few weeks ago when I was Carter Oliver and you were Dean Smith and we were dating. Don't you remember? We totally made out like crazy a few weeks ago. Well I guess it wasn't really us because those fucking angels screwed with our minds. But I can't say I didn't mind kissing you," she rambled on again, not realizing she just dropped a bomb on Dean.

Dean gripped her shoulders, abruptly stopping her ramblings.

"Carter, you're telling me we knew each other in hell?" he asked more urgently, his voice rising.  
"Well yeah, I mean, I think so. I can show you what I remembered like I showed Todd what my dad did..." her voice got lower and trailed off as the thought of her father had a sobering effect on her.

Silence fell between them for a while as they both looked out at the pouring rain. Carter shook her head and put a hand to her face.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked, still trying to grasp the fact they knew each other in hell.  
"I'm just tired, I think I'm sobering up," she said, sliding down the wall to the floor.

Dean sighed, bending down and cradling Carter in his arms. She buried her head in his jacket as he ran out into the rain and placed her in the Impala. They got back to the room before Sam and Dean tossed Carter a towel to dry herself off as he ran a towel through his hair. Carter just wrapped the towel around her shoulders and shivered.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.  
"Definitely still drunk, but I can control myself at least," she said, the slur gone from her words.

Dean retrieved a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to Carter.

"Here, you're drinking this before you go to sleep. We've got some investigating to do tomorrow and I don't want you completely hung over," he teased, rubbing her arms to warm her up.  
"You're so charming, Lance," she drawled, taking a swig from the bottle.

He chuckled, "So, on to the next topic of conversation. We ah, apparently 'made out like crazy a few weeks ago,'" Dean smirked.

Carter, correct in saying she was still drunk, giggled instead of rolling her eyes like she normally would.

"And if I remember correctly, because you probably won't, you said you didn't actually mind it," he beamed.

Carter shook her head, "Carter Oliver liked it. Not me."

Dean hung his head but with a smirk.

"Nice save, Barbie," he chuckled.  
"Like I said, I'm drunk but I can still control myself," she winked.  
"We'll see how well you can control yourself with that hang over tomorrow."

* * *

"How's it going, Barbie?" Dean snickered as he and Sam walked into the room from breakfast.

Carter choked out something quite in audible, but Dean could definitely make out the word motherfucker. This only made him laugh as he tossed a large bottle of Gatorade into the bathroom.

"I'm never drinking again," she uttered, emerging from the bathroom, toothbrush and Gatorade in hand.

Sam and Dean exchanged an amused look.

"Screw you guys," she leaned against the door frame.  
"Are you going to be able to come with us?" Sam asked, seeing her wavering.  
"Oh yeah! I'll be fine. As soon as I keep this down..." she wearily looked at the large bottle of Gatorade, "Then again, maybe you should pick me up when you find out where the author lives."

And she retreated back into the bathroom.

"Do we leave her?" Sam looked to his brother, who was highly entertained by the whole thing.  
"She'll be fine. You heard her, we'll come back," he reiterated.

From the bathroom, Carter sat on the counter waiting for them to leave. She had lied to get them to leave again. Her hangover hadn't been as bad as she played it up to be. She had only suffered from a bit of dizziness and that went away an hour ago. But now, she had a splitting headache and she refused to believe it was part of the hangover...


	22. Chapter 21

**With the end of this chapter, we've officially caught up to where I stopped writing. I've got an idea of what's going to happen in the next chapter but it might be awhile before a new update comes. **

**I just want to thank you all again and I promise I will try really, really hard to get updates out. Please bear with me!**

**Disclaimer: Kripke is the brilliant mind behind Supernatural, not me.**

* * *

Had Carter not just had another vision...or memory flashback or whatever, she would've been more pissed that the boys were making her walk to the author's house, even if it was only a couple blocks away. But she was still slightly trembling as she walked up to the less-than-perfect house. Turns out Carter and Dean's relationship in hell was more complicated than she originally thought. She couldn't possibly tell Dean what she saw. He nearly passed out when he found out they shared a cell.

Carter walked through the open front door and kicked a pizza box that was lying on the floor.

"Smells like a bad Frat party in here," she noted, folding her arms across her chest.  
"Carter, glad you could join us," Dean monotonously chimed.

The squirrely guy in the robe choked on his whiskey and slammed his glass down staring at Carter.

"Carter _Augustine_?" he squeaked.  
"Yeah. Who the hell are you?" she fired back, leaning against Dean.  
"My God...you're beautiful...just as I imagined you," he breathed, striding towards her.

She looked at him like he was nuts and when he outstretched his hand, she reacted by punching him in the face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she barked at him, hearing Dean chuckling behind her.  
"I-I'm sorry I just wanted to know if-"  
"Yeah, I'm real, Pal. And I don't like to be touched. So back off or your nose is not the next thing I hit," she warned.

Sam sighed, jaw clenched, "Carter, this is Chuck, the author."

"Doesn't give him the right to touch me," she grumbled, shooting Chuck a mean glare.

"Give us what you've got so far. We need time to think about this," Dean demanded.

Chuck, gingerly massaging his nose, grabbed a packet of papers off his desk and warily handed them to Dean.

"We'll be back," Sam informed him, taking the packet from Dean.

Dean ushered Carter out the front door and into the Impala.

"What was that, Carter?" Sam curtly accused.  
"Relax, Sam, Carter was just holding her own," Dean winked at her through the rearview mirror.  
"You didn't have to go and punch the guy. Where did that even come from?" Sam continued.

Carter paused a moment, greatly annoyed with Sam.

"Try having Daddy rape and _take advantage _of you when you were a child and you let me know how you react to something like that," she bitterly challenged, stressing what Sam did to her when she was drunk.

Sam turned back around in his seat and stared out the passenger window.

"Alright you two knock it off. We've got bigger fish to fry. Like the laundry situation. I don't know about you two, but I'm running low on boxers and I'd rather not go commando," Dean eased the tension in the car.

"I second that," Carter raised her hand, "I'd rather not have you go commando either," she added with a smirk.

Dean chuckled at her through the mirror and pulled into a Laundromat ten minutes later. Dean was quick to shove all his clothes in one washer and sit himself on a folding counter, Chuck's most recent work in his hand, silently skimming over the lines while the laundry ran.

"So how is it? What's in store for us today?" Carter asked, pulling out her whites from the dryer and then sitting next to Dean, folding her clothes.  
"'I'm sitting in a Laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself ...' My head hurts," he said.  
"There's gotta be something this guy's not telling us," Sam shook his head.  
"'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck and whether he was telling the whole truth,'" Dean read on.

"Stop it," Sam barked.  
"'"Stop it," Sam said.' Guess what you do next?" Dean asked, ridicule in his voice.

Carter giggled as Dean continued to antagonize his brother.

"'Sam turned his back on Dean, his face brooding and pensive.' I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your 'brooding and pensive' shoulders," Dean mocked.

Carter heard Sam frustratingly sigh as she stuffed her clothes into her duffel.

"You just thought I was a dick," Dean accused as Sam turned around.  
"The guy's good," he nodded, making Carter laugh.  
"Oh yeah? Well let's see what Carter's thinking about," Dean smirked, glancing down at the manuscript.

Carter froze, she had just been thinking about what happened in hell. Dean's eyes roved over the page and he sharply looked at her.

"I'm gonna go throw these in the car," she quickly slipped off the counter with her bag.

Carter slung the bag into the back of the Impala, slamming the trunk down, jumping at the sight of Dean. She hadn't heard him follow her out.

"Mind explaining this to me," he angrily slammed the manuscript on the hood of the trunk.  
"I didn't think you needed to know," she guiltily whispered, suddenly finding the ground incredibly interesting.  
"Didn't think I needed to know? Carter, this is about me and you in hell! I didn't even know we shared a cell! And now I find out that we were _friends_!" he yelled at her.

"What does it matter?" she barked right back.  
"Because clearly there's something the angels don't want us to find out! I mean, don't you think the fact that we _both_ don't remember is a little strange?" he asked, trying to convey the importance of that to her.

Carter opened her mouth to say something but then closed it.

"Hate to break this up but I just got a call from Chuck. He wants us over there right away," Sam said, awkwardly standing behind Dean.

Dean frowned at Carter once more before climbing into the driver's seat. She let out a frustrated sigh, taking her place in the backseat. When the three hunters arrived at Chuck's, the author was pacing nervously back and forth, clearly a new draft in his hands.

"You'll want to sit down," he advised, fretfully biting his fingernails.  
"So...you wrote another chapter?" Sam finally asked.

"This was all so much easier before you were real," he noted.

"We can take it, just spit it out," Dean said, anxious to hear what Chuck wrote.  
"You especially are not going to like this," Chuck pointed to Dean.  
"I didn't like hell."  
"Me either," Carter echoed, scratching the back of her head.

Chuck let out a sigh, "It's Lillith."

Carter sat up straight, full attention on Chuck.

"She's coming for Sam," he looked to him.  
"Coming to kill him?" Dean asked.  
"When?" Sam stepped forward.  
"Tonight," Chuck replied.

"What's the point of that?" Carter asked, confused by the whole thing, "Why show up now? It's not like we're hunting down a seal or something. We're not even working a job."

Chuck grabbed his glasses, sitting down on the couch and looked at what he wrote.

"Uh let's see uh, 'Lillith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion,'" he read.

Carter threw him a strange look, jumping when Sam let out a loud laugh.

"You think this is funny?" Dean shot.  
"You don't? I mean c'mon. Fiery demonic passion?" he mocked.  
"It's just a first draft," Chuck said, mostly to himself making Carter smirk.  
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, Lillith is a little girl," Dean pointed out.  
"Apparently not," Carter smirked, receiving a glare from Dean.

"This time she's a comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana," Chuck explained.  
"Great. Perfect. So what happens after the fiery demonic...whatever," Dean continued.  
"I don't know. It hasn't come to me yet," Chuck sighed.  
"You don't _know_?" Carter scoffed, "What kind of psychic are you?"

"I see it in pieces. It starts with a headache...aspirin is useless...so I drink, until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a dream," the writer explained, a pained expression on his face.

"The first time you dreamt about us?" Dean clarified, as Carter uneasily shifted, thinking about all that Chuck knows about her.

"It flowed. It just...kept flowing. Still does. I-I can't stop it really," he shook his head.  
"You can't seriously believe—"  
"Humor me," Dean stopped his brother.  
"You make it kind of difficult," Carter muttered, receiving another dark look from Dean as he stood.

His look sent Carter's stomach into knots. She was in hot water with him now, more so than she usually is and she didn't like it. Chuck ended up giving Dean the manuscript and the boys agreed to take a look at it in the car on the way out of town. Dean's anger only mounted when they found out the only bridge out of town was out and Carter felt that anger would be taken out at her at some point.

"You're quiet," Dean observed, glancing at Carter in the rearview mirror as they waited for Sam to pay for gas at a small fill-up joint.

Her eyes briefly met his in the mirror and she looked away, flashes of hell running through her mind. Dean let out a heavy sigh, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

"So you're not going to tell me what happened?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

Dean didn't need to look through the mirror to tell that Carter suddenly stiffened.

"There's nothing more," she quietly spoke.

Suspiciously eyeing her up, Dean could tell she wasn't telling him something and his irritation with her mounted.

"Look, I get it. Really, I do. But you need to stop being so selfish," he flat out accused her.  
"Selfish?" she echoed, scrambling into the passenger seat, "You're really going to sit there and call _me_ selfish?" she broke her unnatural silence.  
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am," he turned his body to face her, the mounting irritation lining his voice.

"Ever since we met you everything has been about _you_. What _you_ went through in hell, what happened to _you _in the past, and what Todd did to _you_. Everything isn't about you anymore Carter. This thing, with the-the flashbacks and our missing memories...it doesn't involve just you. It's mine and Sam's problem just as much as it is yours," he admonished.

"Typical. You _would_ vent your frustration out on me," she grumbled, shaking her head.  
"Ugh! You're just so..._insufferable_ sometimes! You're such a child, I feel like your babysitter!" he yelled.

Carter furiously growled something, sending Dean a sneer and hopping out of the car.

"Yeah, just walk away Carter! Because you're so damn mature!" he shouted out through the open window and watched as she flipped him off and crossed the street to a nearby restaurant.

_Selfish! The nerve of that man!_ Carter angrily yanked out a chair from a nearby table and waited around for the waitress. She quickly asked for a coffee the tense anger starting to ebb away, the more she thought about it.

_Who am I kidding? I am a child_ she sighed, methodically stirring her coffee, _Even still, the bastard shouldn't talk down to me like that._ She thought to herself, a scowl crossing her face.

After everything Carter had been through, she sometimes forgot how young she was and that she really didn't know as much as Sam or Dean. And it hurt her pride hearing Dean call her a child, it brought her below his level and she didn't want him to see her as a child. A tiny bell dinged above the door as the two Winchesters, both whom were mildly annoyed with Carter, strolled into the restaurant.

"Oh come on, you guys seriously can't leave me alone for a couple hours?" she groaned, slamming her coffee down.  
"We're hungry," Sam sat next to her.  
"And the last time we did that you drank your own weight in booze," Dean smirked, sitting across from her.  
"Y'know this new condescending attitude is really unbecoming," she quipped.  
"New? Oh, Barbie, it's just the old one making a revival," he shook his head, making Sam smirk.  
"Caveman," Carter muttered under her breath.

Dean pulled out the manuscript from his jacket and began reading it, seeing as how the conversation was going to be less than stimulating.

"Hey this could be a good thing," he suddenly spoke, a change in the tone of his voice, "I mean if this thing is what puts us on the path to Lilith, all we have to do is get off path."  
"How do you mean?" Sam asked.  
"It's a blueprint of what not do. I mean, if the pages say we go left..."  
"Then we go right," Sam finished Dean's thought.  
"Exactly. We get offbook. We never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight. So, no fighting. No research for you. No smartass comments from Carter—"

"No bacon cheeseburger for you," Sam pointed out, making Carter wickedly smirk.  
"Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else," he shook off his put-out look as the waitress walked by, "Hi, uh, what's good?"  
"Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend says we've got the best bacon cheeseburger in the country," she told him, Carter desperately holding back her laugh.  
"Really," was all Dean could say.

"I'll just have the cobb salad, please," Sam said, handing her his menu.  
"I'll have the...veggie tofu burger," he uttered, painstakingly handing her the menu.  
"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger," Carter beamed, winking at Dean, almost bursting into a fit of laughter.

The woman took Carter's menu and went off to the kitchen.

"You might want to ease up on those cheeseburgers, Carter, you're starting to sag around the midline," Dean commented, knowing she couldn't quip back.  
"False," was all she said, though, briefly glancing at her stomach which made Dean laugh.

"This whole thing is ridiculous," Sam noted.  
"I'd say," Carter again muttered to herself.  
"Lilith is ridiculous?" Dean asked, not believing what Sam was saying.  
"The idea of me hooking up with her is," he clarified.  
"Right, 'cause something like that could never happened," Dean snidely said, making Carter wonder what he was referring to.

Carter watched Sam tense up, a scowl besmirching his face as he tried to control himself from saying something that he would regret.

"Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close," he slowly started.  
"So?" he unsurely asked.  
"So...we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's—this is an opportunity—"

"Are you!—" Dean began voice significantly raising in volume but then he stopped, "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."  
"Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight," Sam countered.  
"It frustrates _me_ when you both sound like morons," Carter lazily commented, slightly amused by the fight they weren't supposed to have.

Dean threw her a glare as the waitress came to set down their food, "A cob salad for you. A bacon cheeseburger for you. And a veggie tofu burger for you."

"Thank you," Dean said, though leaning in close, "It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. And this is a battle we're not ready to fight."  
"Speak for yourself," Carter scoffed.  
"Aren't you _not_ supposed to make snide little comments?" Dean irritatingly reminded her.

She only shrugged, chewing a mouthful of her admittedly delicious burger. Dean shook his head, warily taking a bite of his own burger, his eyes suddenly widening in surprise.

"Oh my God. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!" he exclaimed.  
"I am so sorry!" The waitress came running back, "I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake!" and she pulled the plate away, Dean's nose following it for a time.

Carter widely smirked, "Well. We're all just fucking up today aren't we?"

* * *

"You're joking, right?"  
"Dude, this place charges by the hour," Sam and Carter expressed their extreme dislike of the place Dean chose to stay the night.

"Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel. Hence, the uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?" Dean reminded them.

"If you seriously think I'm going to sleep in one of these beds..." Carter started, clinging to Dean as a sleazy couple walked by, the girl trying to sexily walk and fluff her hair for the guy.

"Then you can sleep in the Impala," Dean told her, opening the door to the dirty room.  
"Better than sleeping on dried bodily fluids," Carter wrinkled her nose, turning to go put her bag back in the car.

"What are you going to do?" she heard Sam ask when she came back to the room.  
"Well the pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So I'm going to go park her. And Carter is supposed to spend the day with you, so she's coming with me," he simply said.

"Wait, I'm what?" she confusedly asked.  
"Opposite day," Dean smirked.  
"If you say opposite day one more time—"  
"Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn," he smirked, ignoring Carter's comment, "Come on, Carter," he grabbed her wrist.

"Where the hell am I supposed to sleep if you're parking the car?" she whined, tearing her hand from his grip.  
"You could always sleep on top of me," he smirked.  
"Never. You're so disgusting," she frowned.  
"You're such a prude," he rolled his eyes.  
"Enough!" Carter yelled, reaching her breaking point and shoving Dean against the side of the car, pinning him with her body.

"I might act like a child sometimes but I'm not stupid and I'm not a prude. Get it through your thick skull, I'm not just a dumb teenager. I'm not afraid to take a guy like you," she heatedly barked at him, fully intending that last sentence to have a double meaning.

"No you're not," Dean breathed to himself as he watched her climb into the passenger side door.

"You've been quite belligerent lately," he noted, as he pulled out of the parking lot.  
"Because I've had to spend more time alone with you lately," she retorted.  
"You can thank Cas for that," he reminded her.

She only grumbled, settling back into the seat as Dean aimlessly drove around for a place to park. Kind of counterproductive if you think about it.

"How about here?" he asked for Carter's approval as he pulled alongside the curb in a different neighborhood.  
"Hell if I care," she scoffed, getting out.  
"Seriously, Carter, what's with the attitude?" he asked again, this time more seriously.  
"Where do I _begin_?" she mocked turning to walk away, "Let's just go."

Dean let the matter drop, shaking his head as he followed her. Carter didn't quite know why she was so pissed off at Dean. She just was. He just had this way of getting under her skin that drove her nuts.

_It's because he thinks he's my babysitter, _she thought, kicking a stone on the sidewalk some ways ahead of Dean.

Dean certainly wasn't her babysitter but in a way Carter was beginning to recognize that she depended on Dean for a lot. He was there a lot of the time and provided a security that her own family hadn't. Maybe that's why she's so hostile to him, the fear of attachment. That _is_ why she tended to think and act a lot on her own. Carter glanced back at him, observing his swagger and smug smirk.

_Why does he have to be such an ass about everything?_ She rolled her eyes.

"Hey!" she heard him yell, and turned just in time to see him get rammed by an ugly minivan.

"Dean!" she shrieked, panic setting in almost instantly as she sprinted to his side.

The blonde driver anxiously got out of the car, ordering her daughter to stay inside, who decided to get out anyway.

"I'm so sorry! I d-didn't see him!" she hurried down next to Carter.

Carter blatantly ignored the woman, pressing her ear against Dean's chest to hear or feel a heartbeat. She breathed a slight sigh of relief when she felt the muscle still pumping blood.

"Is he ok?" the woman asked.  
"He's alive," Carter bitterly spoke, "Dean, come on, Dean, wake up."

Carter stood, pulling out her phone and dialing Sam's number as she watched the little girl stick Band-Aids on his face. After the third try, Sam still wasn't picking up.

"Dammit, Sam," she cursed sliding her phone shut and looking back at Dean to see that he was waking up.

"Dean!" she shouted, kneeling back down and wrapping her arms around him, "You stupid ass, why didn't you look before you crossed the street!"

Any hostility that she had for Dean that day was instantly dissipated as he slipped his arms around her. She pulled him back for a moment to see the Band-Aids on his face and smirked.

"What are you smirking at? I just got nailed by a van," he groaned, standing up.  
"Take it easy there," she brought herself to her feet, placing her hands on his arms to slow him down.

"Oh no," he uttered, looking at the Impala.

Carter followed his gaze and saw that back window of the classic car was smashed in.

"Why didn't you stop those punks from breaking into my car!" he yelled at her, going to his "baby's" side.

She only rolled her eyes with a slight smirk. If he hadn't just almost been killed by a van she would've been pissed, but now she was just glad he was alive.

"Welllll, looks like you're going to have to put a tarp on that window," she taunted.  
"Shut up, Carter," he barked, pulling the white tarp from the trunk and doing a temporary patch job, "Get in the car."  
"Are you sure I shouldn't drive? I think you have a concussion," she said leaning against the metal.  
"Get. In." he ordered, dead set on something.  
"Ok, ok, I'm getting in," she defensively held up her hands, sliding into the passenger seat.

Dean was pissed and Carter could take a good guess at who, but she was just glad it wasn't her anymore.

"So...where are we going?" she asked after a few minutes of fuming silence from Dean.  
"We're going back to Chuck's," he tightly gripped the steering wheel.  
"You mind slowing down there, speed racer? I'd rather _not_ be in an accident," Carter tightly gripped the seatbelt around her body until her knuckles turned white.

Dean's rage sent his mind in a frenzy and it was throwing off his driving. He shot her a dark look before slowing down a bit.

"Come on," he growled at her as he parked in front of Chuck's house.

Carter followed, though, fully noting the clear concussion he had and followed him up to the front door. Dean's fist rapped on the beat wooden door, sending loud echoes into their ears. Impatiently, Dean tried the door knob to find that it was securely locked.

"He's not home, Dean, let's just go back to the room," Carter sighed.

Deliberately ignoring her, Dean pulled out his lock-picking set and made quick work of the front door. Carter let out another irritated sigh, roughly pushing him into a nearby chair causing him to confusedly look at her.

"What are y—"  
"Shut up for a second and let me look at you," she ordered, bending over him and checking his eyes seeing that they were dilated, "Just calm yourself. You've got a concussion," she slid into the chair next to him, boredly propping her head up with her hand while Dean just looked at her.

"I know one thing I'll never forget," Dean's voice was lighter and Carter turned to look at him, "Boy the way you looked at me...I thought you were going to kiss me."

Dean laughed, dodging a pillow Carter sent his way.

"I thought you were_ dead_!" she yelled despite feeling her cheeks grow warm.  
"Well I ought to put myself in harm's way more often," he chuckled.  
"You were hit by a _van_," Carter sternly repeated, placing her head back on her hand.

Dean heard the tone in her voice and saw that she was shaken from his brush with death.

She actually cared.


	23. Chapter 22

**New plan! I'm going to try to get to the end of the fourth season of Supernatural before classes start. That way when I drop off the internet for books and studying I won't leave you guys completely hanging.**

**I also apologize if the writing style has changed...it's been a while since I've actually written something new for this story. **

* * *

"My life is a _fucking_ joke!" Carter roared, storming out of Chuck's house, Dean following her with quick steps of his own, "And I _hate_ angels!"

"Stringing us along like we don't matter! All for _what!_ We don't know because they don't tell us! And now they tell us our fate is being decided by the Stephen King wannabe? A _prophet?_"  
"Would you just shut up for a minute!" Dean yelled as they both climbed into the Impala, "Lillith could be here any moment!"

Carter bit on her tongue to prevent her from saying anything else. Seething she shook her head with her arms crossed firmly across her chest. Dean was nervous. There's no reason he shouldn't be, Lillith was the one that sent him to hell. Carter, on the other hand, has been ready to take the bitch out from day one and she was more pissed at Castiel's sudden revelation. She's tired of being strung along, being helpless against the angels plan, just fucking tired of being lied to.

"After we get Sam let's just go get drunk. I mean fucking _obliterated_," Carter shook her head with a sigh, garnering a funny look from Dean, "What?"  
"You're so _angry_ all the time," he shook his head with a slight smirk at her choice of words.

Carter just shook her head, "Let's just get the hell out of here and move on."

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day," Dean nodded his head, pulling into the car park at the motel.

Clamoring out of the car, Carter opened her mouth to go off on another but stopped seeing Dean openly gaping at something in the sky. She followed his gaze, her eyes stopping dead on the blazing neon sign of the motel that was no longer the "Toreador" but now the "Red." A new kind of fear resonated through the small girl and she was rooted to the spot, only moving when Dean hastily grasped her hand in his and lead them into the motel room.

_She's coming_, Carter nervously folded her arms across her chest, her former belligerence nothing but a memory as that sudden realization swam to the forefront of her mind. Carter could talk all she wanted about how badly she wanted to tear Lillith to shreds but now that she's faced with opportunity, she's positively terrified. And with good reason. Lillith is about a thousand times more powerful than Alastair and the latter demon had Carter in his clutches on more than one occasion...

"Then what is it, Sam! Because I'm at a total loss!" Dean's voice brought Carter back to the situation at hand.

Sam shrugged his shoulders making Carter frown.

_He's not coming?_ She thought, noting just how arrogant Sam seemed when talking about Lillith and she thought back to that demon Ruby from months ago. The rapport between them was just too...unnatural.

"Carter!" Dean barked, his bag in hand, "Are you coming or not, Sam?"  
"No," Sam defiantly answered. There were a couple terse seconds that Dean stood before the door, clearly wanting to just leave Sam and go but he eventually slammed his bag down to disappear behind the crashing door.

Sam breathed a sigh and sent Carter a reassuring smile, "Thanks for staying with me."

"I'm not," she said, eyeing him up.  
"What? Why not?" the smile suddenly vanished, "Is it about that kiss back in Cheyenne? Carter, I'm sorry. I—"  
"It's not about that," she shook her head, a familiar foreboding creeping under her skin the longer she looked at Sam. She had felt it when she first met the younger Winchester and for a short while after that. Eventually it went away but now it was different. It was somehow stronger, more powerful, more _desperate_. Carter frowned at Sam. It was the demon blood, she knew, but how it was changing she didn't.

"Then what is it?" he gently pressed, "Because, maybe it was just me, but I thought we had some kind of connection going."  
"Sam, this is hardly the right time to talk about this," she shook her head again, not at all sharing Sam's thought. And strangely, Carter began yearning for Dean's company, something that used to be said for the ever pleasant Sam. Lately, everything was being turned upside in Carter's mind.

Sam sighed again, understanding that Carter felt nothing between them and he nodded.

"Will you at least help me with Lillith?" he quietly asked, placing his hand on his hips.  
"What makes you think you can take her?" she asked back.  
"I iced Alastair, didn't I?" it was more a statement than a question.

_His pride had cast him out from __Heav'n__, with all his Host _Carter mused to herself, thinking Sam dangerously resembled Lucifer in that conceited statement.

"Alastair is _nothing_ compared to Lillith," Carter pointed out, trying to reason with Sam.  
"But you _and_ me _together_ could take her on. You can force her power back onto her," he reminded her.  
"I've never tried it on a demon like her before! God only knows what would happen if I did!" she protested her voice rising with fear, "Sam, this is madness! Let's just _go_!"

Carter waited for him to respond, her chest heaving up and down and her face pleading. But he shook his head, face hard.

"I can't believe you _both_," is all he said as Carter turned out the door.

She was ready to tell Dean to drag his brother out of there when she paused, seeing Castiel speaking with the elder Winchester. Dean glanced over Cas' shoulder at Carter and the girl could see he wasn't so agitated anymore.

"So if a prophet, was in the same room as say a demon..."  
"Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down upon that demon. Just so you understand, why I can't help," the angel replied confusing the hell out of Carter.  
"Thanks Cas," Dean cracked a slight smile.  
"Good luck," the angel bid before disappearing into the air.

Dean looked at Carter again, "Are you coming?"

"Coming? Coming where?" she asked, running to catch up to him.  
"Prophets are protected by archangels. We bring Chuck to Lillith—"  
"And Lillith brings the archangel," realization dawned on Carter as she climbed into the passenger seat next to Dean.  
"I retract my previous statement about hating angels," she smiled at the cleverness of Castiel.  
"At least not one of them," Dean mused, fiercely speeding off back to Chuck's.

Dean told her to wait in the car as he dashed into the author's house, his favorite Colt pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. Carter hoped to God they would get back in time and prevent Sam from doing something stupid. Not long after Dean went in, he came back out practically dragging Chuck's ass across the pavement and threw him unceremoniously into the back of the Impala.

"Oh, hey, Carter," he meekly said, strapping himself in as Dean tore off once more back to the motel. _This is getting a little redundant_ Carter thought to herself. As Dean pulled into the parking lot, Carter's heart rapidly beat in her chest seeing the all the lights on the city block flickering dangerously.

She was there.

She struggled with her seatbelt as Dean closed his fist around Chuck's shirt collar, dragging him from the car and bursting into the motel room. Finally breaking free, Carter entered the room just as a thundering and terrifying noise filled the small space and a blinding white light overtook the entire room. Lillith had the knife in her hand, staring incredulously at Chuck and Dean while Sam covered his eyes on the bed.

"You've got about ten seconds before this room is full with wrath and you're a piece of charcoal! You sure you want to tangle with that?" Dean roars above the tumultuous groan.

The demon gives one last look to Sam before making a fast exit from her host and the sounds and trembling of the building recede as the archangel senses that the threat has passed. It was as if everyone in the room let out a rushed breath of air that they all seemed to be holding. Carter glanced at Chuck and was pretty sure he had wet himself and then glanced at Dean who seemed to be furious with Sam despite the fact everything turned out all right.

"Sooo," Carter sighed, turning to Dean, "Obliteration?"

* * *

"Here you are," the bartender handed Carter another shot of tequila. Warily glancing over her shoulder for Dean, Carter tipped the clear liquid down her throat a deep shudder spreading over her body as she made comical liquor-face. Dean supposedly had cut her off two shots ago but she was hardly paying him any mind. He didn't want to have to deal with an "obliterated" Carter again. She promised him she wouldn't overdo when a couple girls at the pool table caught his eye.

And she wouldn't.

She was hardly feeling anything at the moment, thus her ordering of another shot. _This is the last one_ she thought to herself as the bartender slid another one in front her.

Dean had no words for Sam after the left the "Red" motel to take Chuck home. It was a silent and tense car ride and remained that way when they checked into a _real_ motel. Sam quietly bid the other two hunter's good night before they went off to a local bar but not before Carter decided she wanted to "dress up."

Dean acquiesced not expecting much from her but when she came out of the bathroom after her shower, the hunter was floored. She donned her usual tight dark denims but surprised Dean with her winged, one-shouldered top that exposed the length of her right arm, shoulder and neckline and surprised him even further when he saw that she was wearing makeup and had actually fixed her hair.

Dean ruminated on this thought as he checked in on Carter from across the bar, seeing her take another shot. This was certainly _not_ the same girl he met all those months ago, or even the same girl from a couple weeks ago. The Carter he was looking at now had a certain confidence about her that made even Dean forget about the faint scars that marred her skin. He watched as the bartender whispered something to her and she threw her head back in a warm laugh and then she turned her head, briefly glancing at him with a smile before turning back to her conversation with the barkeep. Dean smiled to himself, downing the last of the beer in his hand as he turned back to the billiard table.

"I'm telling you, he's sweet on you," the bartender winked and Carter just shook her head. Not buying _anything_ the aging bartender was spouting off. Carter liked the woman. She certainly didn't feel like conversing with any of the men around her and the bartender cordially struck up conversation with her.

"Uh oh. Incoming," the bartender warned, as a mid-twenty-something sidled up next to the girl.

He was reasonably attractive, Carter determined, with shaggy brown hair, doleful eyes, and quite a nice smile. But he stank of whiskey and she could tell his intentions were less than admirable.

"Let me buy you the next drink," he offered, handing the bartender a twenty.  
"No thanks," Carter wrinkled her nose, sipping from her glass of water.  
"There's no harm in one more drink," he pressed, sliding a tall glass of beer toward her.  
"I already told my boyfriend I wouldn't drink anymore," she batted her eyelashes at the guy. It wasn't the _smoothest_ mention but all the same it got the guy thinking.

"Boyfriend?"  
"Yeah," she nodded, pointing over to Dean, "He's over there. Shooting some pool."  
"The one in the black Henley?" the guy frowns.  
"The same," Carter nods with an accomplished smile.  
"I bet you don't even _know_ the guy. For all I know you just picked some random dude hanging around the bar."

Carter hung her head, _this guy is persistent_.

"Hey, Babe. Not overdoing it, are you?" Dean's swarthy voice cooed in Carter's ear.

His large hands turned her body so that she was facing him. There was a brief moment where the two looked at each other in understanding before Dean boldly cupped her small face and captured her rosy lips with his. Carter really had _no_ idea what she was doing as she parted her lips, tasting the beer on Dean's tongue and letting him effortlessly put on the act.

As easily as Dean initiated the kiss, he broke away to down the last of his third beer only to slam the glass down on the bar.

"Hey, Dean," Carter managed to stutter out between her goofy smile.  
"Who's this?" Dean asked, pretending to see the guy for the first time while protectively tucking Carter under his arm.  
"He's was going to buy me a drink," Carter found her full voice, smirking at the guy who had hit on her.  
"We don't have a problem here, do we?" Dean sternly asked the guy who looked as if he were about to piss his pants.

Vigorously shaking his head, the guy ran off with a wary glance back at the pair of hunter's. Dean breathed a sigh, removing his arm from around Carter's waist to sit down next to her. The void of cold Dean's arms left in its wake made Carter shudder and she longed for its warmth again. Carter also found herself reflecting on that kiss. It was unlike anything she's ever done before. Of course, there was the time when she was Carter Oliver but that wasn't her, it hadn't felt the same as this one. Suddenly, she was incredibly self-conscious about the way she kissed him. He was beyond experienced and the only other boy she had truly kissed (aside from Sam of course) was Logan Stevenson when she was thirteen.

"Carter, are you ok?" Dean asked after seeing her fall silent.  
"What? Oh yeah. I'm fine," she flashed him a smile. But she was kind of sad. He didn't seem to be dwelling on that kiss as much as she was.  
"Hey, you wanna go hustle some pool? The mooks at the tables have been watching you pour back shots. We could clean 'em out!" he excitedly said, leaning in close.  
"Let's do it," she grinned, immediately stumbling out of her chair with her somewhat feigned drunkenness.

Dean followed her with a laugh as she slammed a hundred dollar bill on the green-felted table, slurring out something inaudible to two biker thugs at the opposite end. She really was a great actor, Dean shook his head with a smile.

"I! Break!" she pointed to herself, taking up a pool cue.

The two meatheads grinned to themselves thinking this game was in the bag. But Dean knew better. Letting Carter break was like saying goodbye to your money indefinitely. He watched as she lined up her shot, wavering a little on her feet and he was slightly convinced that she wasn't faking that. A quick snap of her wrist and Carter sent four of the colored balls into the side and corner pockets.

"Stripes!" she bellowed, overenthusiastically jumping into Dean's arms.  
"No, sweetie, we're solid," he gave a hesitant laugh, pinching her butt, "Mind toning it down a little?" he warned in her ear.

"Ok," she frowned, rubbing her backside as Dean took the next turn sinking two more before he botched his third shot. But the game was only two well-placed shots away from being done as the other pair sank three before it was Carter's turn again.

Carter spun on her heel away from Dean, playfully nudging her hip between his legs to keep up with their act. She pocketed their remaining ball and handed her cue over to Dean who called a corner pocket for the eightball and made his shot.

"Did we win?" Carter beamed, flopping into a nearby chair.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Dean chuckled collecting the four hundred bucks off the table.

One of the guys, a very large bald-headed man was purple from anger and contested that Carter and Dean cheated. He was absolutely furious and called for a rematch as several more of his buddies sauntered on over. Of course Dean and Carter agreed seeing that _none_ of these guys seemed like real competition. Over the course of the night, they played five games against the thugs and it was on their sixth that they were finally humiliated and demanded their money back.

"You and that little _slut_ over there better hand over our money!" the guy spat in Dean's face.  
"Hey, now there's no need for name calling. We won your money fair and square. It's not our fault you got hustled by a drunk," Dean, oh-so innocently, tried to diffuse the tension.

The guy in front of Dean swung his beefy fist at him, all hell breaking loose as the five guys closed in around him. It wasn't really a contest, Dean being a hunter and these guys being drunken idiots. Carter weaved her way in and out of the brawl, trying to push the guys off Dean until finally the bar owner broke it all up. The elderly but fit bar owner tossed Dean and Carter outside, spouting off something about not tolerating unfair play. A scowl on his face, Dean brushed off the dirt on his jeans and helped Carter to his feet.

"Dammit!" he uttered, his hands pulling out only half of what they won from his pocket, "I lost half our winnings! Now the whole night is wasted."  
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Carter smirked, fanning five, full money clips between her hands, "Those guys should really learn to hang on to their money better."

Dean swung his arm around Carter's shoulder with a laugh, "Ha, ha! That's my girl!"

Something about that statement made Carter smile as she handed over Dean's share of the money. _This has been one strange hunt_, she determined, looping her arm around Dean as well.

"Hey, y'know it wasn't bad either," he said a few moments later.  
"What wasn't?" she frowned, not understanding what Dean was talking about.  
"That kiss," he smirked, "If I didn't know any better I would've thought you knew what you were doing."

Carter shoved him away from her, an embarrassed smiling tugging at the corners of her lips and a pink blush racing across her cheeks. Barking another laugh, Dean caught Carter's shoulders again bringing her back into his body.

"You're terrible," she shook her head with a smile think that she wouldn't really mind being Dean's girl.


	24. Chapter 23

**Taking a new direction with this one and diverging away from season four episodes. I figure it's time Carter faces her past a bit more...and a different past, not the abusive one. **

* * *

The hollow wail hauntingly echoed through the dark corridors, sending chills down the spine of anyone who heard it. The creature from whence it came icily drifted from room to room in search of its prey. Two floors below it, another creature, hot on the tail of its prey, performed the same task in the nearly abandoned hospital.

Dropping down a line of salt, Dean hurriedly retreated back into his hidden position next to Carter, the former hunter the target of the ghastly creature. Another eerie shriek pierced the still air, the hunter's clamping their hands tightly over their ears as the banshee passes by the room where they were hiding.

"That salt line is not going to hold them indefinitely," Carter whispered, hearing the banshee move off to another floor.  
"You don't think I know that?" Dean hissed, tossing over a silver dagger to Sam.

He has more to be concerned about than Carter does. The banshees have taken an _extreme_ liking to him and Sam, the former being an apparent embodiment of lust and the latter of pride. The three of them had been in town hunting a group of demons, only to stumble into the middle of a seal being broken. The banshees were holy women of Jerusalem, hell-bent on cleansing the world of sin. To break the seal all they would have to do is find a man and a woman for each of the seven sins.

"Maybe I should do this," Carter suggested, pushing Dean back down.

The girl quickly learned that the banshees' call didn't have as big of an effect as it did on the boys. She liked to think it was because she hadn't truthfully committed any of the sins but a feeling in her gut told her it was because of her sojourn in hell.

_They must recognize me as one of their own_, she thought, shuddering as both of the freakish creatures returned.

The three hunters froze as the banshees methodically scoured the rooms for the sinners, sending a chill and deathly breeze throughout the floor. Carter silently lurked forward, her breath curling as a visible wisp from her mouth. Before she dashed from the room Dean's strong hand grasped hers, tugging her back so close to his chest.

"Be careful," he cautioned, squeezing her hand.

Carter nodded, still becoming accustomed to Dean's growing protectiveness over her. Ever since the thing with Chuck, Dean's whole attitude has changed towards the girl. They've yet to have another violent argument and have grown quite close. It was strange to Carter but she couldn't say she minded it.

Without another word, Carter slid her hand from Dean's and prepared herself to lead the banshees away from the Winchesters. Once they were at the far end of the hallway she leapt from the room, her sneakers echoing loudly, giving away her position to the banshees. In an instant they were at her end, shrieking wildly, making the hairs on the back of Carter's neck stand on end. The banshees may not have been after her, but they certainly weren't opposed to taking out an intruder. Poking her head around the door, Carter cursed when she saw the two creatures only one more room down, their haunting grey cloaks consuming the hallway, preventing Carter from sliding past.

Retreating back into the room Carter cursed to herself, deciding that she's gone completely mental for what she's about to do. She lurched forward from the room, sprinting straight at the black figures. At first the banshees didn't she her and weren't able to stop her as she shoved her way between them. But that was about as far as she got as they blew an icy smoke on the floor, her sneakers slipping on the slick mass. Carter crashed to the floor, slamming hard into the wall, her head reeling from the blow. Senses disoriented, she struggled to climb to her feet as the banshees barrel down on her, wailing away.

As a last resort she threw her silver dagger, praying it would hit one of them. Prayers being answered, the left ghost roared in agony as the blade imbedded itself in its concealed face. A different sort of cry rang throughout the hall as Sam and Dean sprang from their positions, Dean driving his dagger through the distracted banshee's heart, ending its life for good.

Sam had a much more difficult time, the banshee sensing its prey before he could end it. The creature wheeled on the younger Winchester, its cry penetrating deep into Sam's mind as he was rendered helpless. But the banshee was too focused on Sam that it didn't see Dean coming up from behind until it was too late and the silver blade that had killed its sister was now lodged in its own heart. With one last cry, the banshee vanished into a smoky mass, releasing its hold on Sam.

The seal was saved.

Dean helped his brother to his feet before running over to Carter who was painfully clutching her head just above her right eye, a trail of blood seeping from below her hand.

"Move your hand, lemme see," Dean instructed, trying to pry her hand off her head.  
"I'm fine, Lancelot," she groaned, batting his hands away as she winced in pain, "Just a little scratch."  
"Really? How many fingers am I holding up?" he held up three knowing that Carter was seeing twice as many.  
"Shut up," she grumbled as Sam and Dean lifted her to her feet.

"Uhh...guys, I don't...I don't feel so good," Carter uttered, going limp in their grasp, "Just let me...sit...just sit."

Carter slowly pulled herself from their arms, crumpling into a ball on the floor with her eyes closed. Her stomach was in knots, the room was spinning, and her mind was in a dreary fog making it difficult to voice her thoughts.

"Should we take her to the hospital?" Sam shot Dean a worried look.  
"Isn't that a little counterintuitive?" Dean smirked, jesting at the fact they were in one.

Sam frowned at his brother not enjoying the joke.

"No," Carter sat up, pointing a wobbly finger at the two, "No hospitals...sleep...couple hours..."

She trailed off, laying her head on her arms again, not caring that she was bleeding on her jacket. Dean sighed, lifting the girl into his arms. If they weren't going to a real hospital they at least had to get back to their room. Carter adjusted herself so that she was cradled against his chest, hearing his hear beat within. Much like everything else about Dean, it was comforting.

By the time they reached the room, Carter's slight nausea had subsided and she was able to piece together coherent sentences. It was that fact that prevented them from taking her to hospital and instead they determined they could take care of her themselves.

"Did I ever tell you I hate needles?" Carter winced as Dean put a couple stitches in her bleeding head.  
"Fine time to tell me," Dean smirked, finishing the last one.

Carter tiredly leaned hear head against the wall as Dean fished out some gauze and medical tape.

"Sit up," Dean instructed, his hands pushing on Carter's waist. The move made Carter shiver, though, she's not quite sure why.  
"I'm tired," she stifled a yawn, letting Dean place a bandage over the stiches  
"You're almost done," Dean noted, his gentle fingertips leaving Carter's skin tingling beneath his touch, one more leaving her wondering why, "There."  
"Thanks, Doc," she said as Dean helped her off the counter with his hands under her arms.

"Try not to be so reckless next time," he chided with a smirk, following her back out into the room.  
"Saved your ass didn't I?" she smirked back.  
"Let's reevaluate that statement there," Dean furrowed his eyebrow, "I believe it was _me_ who ganked the banshees."  
"And I believe it was _me_ who distracted them giving you the opportunity," she tapped her nose with a wink.

About a month ago, Dean would have been absolutely irate at the notion of Carter saving _him _and would've made it a point to put Carter in her place. But now, all he did is chuckle and pull off his flannel shirt for bed.

"Carter, you left your phone in the car," Sam said, tossing her the little black Evo, "It's been going off almost none stop."

"Who would be calling _you_," Dean teased, receiving a frown from Carter as she held the phone up to her ear to listen through her voicemail. It was an unknown number but the voice she heard was more than recognizable.

_"Hey C...listen uh, I need you to call me back..."_ her best friend's voice was utterly distraught, the concern spreading through Carter like wildfire, _"It's important."_

The phone skipped to the next message, _"Carter, I really need you to call me back when you get this."_

And then the next one, _"Listen, I don't know where you are but you need to drop everything and get to New Haven. Something's going on here and Logan and I need your help. Call me."_

Logan.

Something in Carter's heart stirred at the mention of her old friend...the _only_ friend there with her when the hell hounds came.

There was one more message, Carter saw, and she skipped to it with a trembling hand.

_"Dammit, Carter, she's dead! My mom is dead! Logan's mom too! There is Something. Going. On! You _NEED_ to get here as soon as possible! Please, Carter."_

The phone slid from Carter's ear, the girl in absolute shock. She couldn't believe Kris MacCallum was dead. And then she suddenly began throwing her clothes in her duffel.

"Um, what are you doing?" Dean finally noticed the state she was in.  
"I have to go," is all she said.  
"Go? Go where?" Dean frowned.  
"New Haven, Connecticut," she said, fiercely tying her shoes.

"We can't _go_ to Connecticut, Carter. Bobby just called and he's got a lead on another seal in Utah," Sam said.  
"Then _you_ can go to Utah. I'm still going east," she determined, a firearm clicking in her hands before she stuffed it in the bag.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down for a second," Dean stood, taking the duffel from her, "What' so important that you have to go to New haven?"

"It's Tania!" Carter finally broke down, her face warm with tears, "And Logan. They were my best friend's before hell. Their parents are dead and they're in trouble! I have to help them, Dean. I _have_ to help them."

Wiping the tears from her face, Carter composed herself and reclaimed her bag from Dean, "I'm going with or without you."

Dean sighed looking to his brother for help while Carter was just itching to go.

"I'll give you a ride to the airport," Sam sighed.  
"No! You aren't _seriously_ going to let her go?" Dean protested.

He had just grown so used to Carter being around that he couldn't possibly separate with her now. Dean felt like it was his responsibility to watch over her and make sure nothing happens to her, though, he didn't quite understand where that feeling came from. He just needed to.

"Do _you_ want to try stopping her? Because last I remember, she pulled a gun out on you when you wouldn't let her leave," Sam reminded him of their last real fight.

"We don't even know what's out there! What if it's the angels? What if it's _Lillith_?" Dean argued, instilling a pang of fear in Carter, but she still knew she had to go.

"Dean, I'll be fine. Tania and Logan have been hunting longer than I have," Carter reassured him. She didn't know why it was so important for Dean's permission to leave but she had to have it.

"I don't like this," he spoke directly to her with a shake of his head.  
"I'll meet you at Bobby's in a couple weeks," she said, not even really believing she was going to the leave the Winchesters.

Dean let out another frustrated sigh, nodding his head, "You call me, the _moment _you need help."

* * *

Upon seeing her best friend waiting for her at the airport, Carter dropped her two bags running straight into the tall girl's arms, both of them breaking down in tears. To anyone around the pair it would seem like a happy reunion but it was far from it. The girls didn't let themselves wallow in pity for much longer and Carter grabbed her bags, joining Tania in her SUV.

"How on _earth_ did you get your pistol on a plane?" Tania marveled, pulling her dark hair into a ponytail.  
"I have my ways," Carter grinned, piecing together the handgun but then her face turned grave, "So what's going on?"

Tania sighed, starting the engine, "There's been a whole slew of dark doubles. Initially my mom and I thought it might've been a shapeshifter. That's what brought us and the Stevenson's here originally."

Carter saw the poor girl trying so hard to keep the tears from falling. Unlike Carter, Tania is literally alone in this world with no more family to look after her.

"Both my mom and Logan's said they saw death omens before they died and now I'm not so convinced it's any kind of shapeshifter," she shook her head, pulling into a hotel parking lot.

"Logan's been looking into it almost nonstop but with this and everything else going on in the world I don't know if we'll be able to figure it out," she sighed.

"What do you mean?" Carter frowned.  
"All kinds of weird things have been going on...weirder than our usual case. Violent electrical storms, whole districts being wiped out, and there's been _a lot_ of demon activity," she explained, leading Carter up to their room.

_So hunter's don't know what going on,_ Carter frowned, wondering why the angel wouldn't tell more hunter's to hunt the seals.

"Tania, there's something you need to know about that," Carter sighed, following Tania into the room.

"Hey, you're back. Where did yo—"

Carter looked up at the smooth voice and stopped dead in her tracks. The man in front her could _not_ be Logan Stevenson. He was so _tall_, nearly taller than Dean and his unruly blonde hair fell into his pale blue eyes. And yet, he everything about him screamed Logan and she knew it was him.

"Carter," he breathed, stunned to see the girl standing in front of him. Actually, he looked like he was going to fate and Carter frowned at Tania when she realized why.

"You didn't tell him?" Carter accused.  
"It never really came up," Tania sheepishly shrugged her shoulders.  
"You...you can't be alive," he stuttered, his eyes widening at her, "I s-saw you die. There's no way—"  
"You'd be surprised," Carter chuckled, dropping her bags on the floor.

Logan warily watched as she walked up to him an amused smile on her face and a slight twinkle in her eye.

"It's really me, Logan," she smiled, her fingertips reaching out to his hand.

Still in disbelief, he jumped when he felt her hand on his but then slowly gaining confidence he hand glided up to the ends of her hair, feeling the softness between his fingers. Tucking her hair behind her ear, his hand moved down her arm.

"It's really you," he cracked a smile, overzealously yanking her into a tight embrace but then he pulled her back, "But how? The hellhounds..."

Carter sighed, flopping down onto the bed, "You guys aren't going to like what I'm about to tell you."

Tania briefly glanced at Logan before shutting the door and pulling a chair up, sensing that her near-otherworldly friend was about to delve into a story. Logan remained standing, still partially in shock that his old friend...or rather girlfriend...was sitting in front of him. With another sigh, Carter explained everything to the other hunter's. Explained everything about her deal, the angels, and most importantly the seals guarding Lucifer's cage in hell. By the time she finished, nightfall had settled outside.

"We've only been able to stop a handful. Less than we've been able to save," Carter shook her head with a frown.  
"How do you know when it's a seal?" Tania asked, sprawled out on the other bed.  
"Sometimes it's a passage in Revelation, or the angels tell us, or there's some kind of funky numerology or pattern associated with it."

"Hm. Numerology huh?" Logan said behind her on the bed, but then got up rummaging through his mess of notes on the desk.  
"What is it?" Tania asked, seeing Logan frown.  
"Other than the fact that all the victims have been hunters, they've all been forty-two years of age," he said, flipping through a notebook.  
"Suffering," Tania mused.

"Tell me more about the victims," Carter frowned, joining Logan at his side.

"Like I said, all forty-two, all hunters. From what we could find all them reported seeing a ghostly figure out of their peripheral several days before they were killed. The witnesses we talked to said when they found the bodies, a dark figure was hunched over them and every figure was similar to the victim, Logan looked up from his notebook, eyeing the pondering look on Carter's face.

"Can I see that?" she held her hand out for the notebook that Logan gladly handed her.

"We know it's not ghouls because no dead bodies have been stolen," Logan said.  
"And it's not a shapeshifter because there's no object of obsession," Tania ruled out.  
"We can also rule out revenants, changelings—"  
"Werewolves, skinwalkers—"  
"Black dogs, what else are we missing?" Logan cynically smirked.

"All these hunters were born in Richmond," Carter suddenly interrupted them.

"What?" they said simultaneously.

Carter handed them the notebook deeply unsettled by that fact. Richmond was their hometown, _her_ hometown. It was too big of a coincidence for it _not_ to be a seal. If it's not a coincidence then it's a seal, and if it's a seal...then there are demons. Demons that clearly wanted Carter to be here when the seal broke. And if they wanted her here, they've been watching her since she came into town.

"We have to go!" Carter shouted with her realization.  
"What? Why?" Logan shook his head, startled by her sudden outburst.  
"Demons. They wanted me here, I know it," she said, shoving Logan's bag into his chest.  
"How do you _even_ know that?" Tania frowned, carelessly throwing her things into her own bag.

Even as she said it, the lights began to flicker and the hunter's paused.

"_Fuck_," Carter cursed, pulling out her pistol, the one enchanted like the Colt. Logan dropped a line of salt in front of the door before gathering the rest of his things. They were making their way out the back balcony when there were a couple soft knocks on the door. Carter could sense the hell-spawn on the other side thanks to her extended stay in hell.

Logan and Tania had already climbed down to the ground when the door burst open and Carter fired off a round, hitting the demon in the shoulder.

"You little, _bitch_," he growled, dressed as housekeeping.

He took another step forward but it ended up being his last as a bullet lodged itself in his head, giving Carter time to scale down the fire escape before the demon's backup arrive. The three young hunters sprinted to the SUV without another word.

"Where the hell do we go?" Tania shouted, once they were safely in the car.  
"Anywhere," Carter panted, her head throbbing from her lingering concussion.  
"My folks have a cabin near the harbor. Mom fortified it five years ago," Logan said, pulling a U-turn to head towards New Haven Harbor.

Carter relaxed into the passenger seat, breathing a heavy sigh. _Dean was right,_ she thought, _I shouldn't have come alone._

* * *

**Carter separates from the Winchesters...Gasp! Fear not, it's not a permanent change but I can't rule out doing it again. Also, Tania I had in mind as the beautiful Zoe Saldana and Logan is the ever-adorable Austin Butler. I've added their faces to my profile if you need/want a better look. **


	25. Chapter 24

**This one is fairly short. It's more insight into Carter and leads into more important chapters.**

**On another note, much love to those who reviewed/subscribed! I can't say it enough but I really do appreciate it. **

**As per the usual, I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

"They aren't bad, Tania. They're just...cursed," Carter shook her head, thinking about all the misfortune the Winchesters have faced.  
"Don't tell me you're sleeping with one of them," Tania furrowed her eyebrow, Carter's eyes widening in shock.  
"No!" she laughed, kicking her friend under the blanket they were sharing, across from each other on the couch, "What the hell makes you say that?"  
"I don't know, you just seem so keen on defending them. I just figured you were getting a little something on the side," she shrugged.  
"No..." Carter shook her head, her voice trailing off.

Tania observed the far-off look on Carter's face.

"What is it?" she asked, "Or should I say who?"

Carter sharply looked at Tania, who had a knowing smirk playing her lips.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carter stuck her nose up in the air.  
"Please, girl, I saw the way you were looking at him. I _know_ that look," she haughtily settled back into the arm of the couch.

Carter felt her cheeks flush and she kicked her friend once more. It was hard for Carter to ignore the flaring feelings she had for Logan. He was the only boyfriend Carter ever had and the two had a strong relationship. Certainly nothing close to love but strong nonetheless.

"That ship has sailed," Carter shook her head, the blush fading from her cheeks.  
"Oh I don't know. You never know what might happen," she insinuated, blocking Carter's next kick with a laugh as the front door opened and Logan strolled in carrying a pizza.

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?" Logan gave the girls a funny look.  
"We were just talking," Carter chuckled, throwing the blanket off her body.  
"And what, may I ask, were you talking about?" he suavely posed, tugging off his jacket.  
"You," Tania answered before Carter could, in turn receiving a pointed look.  
"Me?" Logan frowned, holding back a smile as Carter sauntered over to him.

"She's just being obnoxious. We were talking about the Winchesters."

It wasn't a lie, they _had_ been talking about the two brothers. It just wasn't the whole truth.

"What kind of pizza did you get?" Carter tried opening the box but was denied when Logan snatched it out from under her hands.  
"Ah, ah, ah. Wait your turn, missy. I've got to go get some plates," he faux chided, disappearing into the kitchen.

Carter rounded on her friend, "Tania, I could _murder_ you!"

"I'm gonna go help him," she pointed to the kitchen door, and ran through it before carter could make good on her threat. Carter shook her head, hearing her phone ringing.

"H'lo?" she answered before looking at the caller I.D.  
_"Hey, it's me,"_ Dean's voice came from the other line, _"Are you ok?"  
_"We had a little run-in with some demons but we're safe now. Why are you calling? Don't tell me you have _that_ little faith in me, Dean," she joked, balancing on the arm of the couch.

_"You're sure you're ok? You don't need m—us to come out there?"  
_"No, I'm fine. We might be on a seal, though," she flipped the phone to the other ear, not hearing his near-slip-up "What's up, you sound pissed."

He sighed on the other end.

_"Sam and I got a call a couple days ago...someone claiming to be John Winchester's son."  
_"Well is he telling the truth? Why would he call now?" Carter frowned.  
_"He checks out. It's even in my dad's journal...or was before the pages were ripped out. He said something was after his mom. Sam's all gung-ho about training him to hunt, ignoring everything I say. I don't like this, Carter."_

"You sure have a funny way of telling me that you miss me," she tried lightening his mood.  
_"You're starting to sound like me."  
_"Proof that I spend too much time with you," she smirked, seeing Logan and Tania come back from the kitchen, plates of pizza in hand, "Listen, I gotta let you go."  
_"You'll call me if you get in trouble, right?"_ he asked again, making Carter chuckle.  
"You'll be the first, Lancelot."  
_"Be careful, Carter_," were his last words before he hung up.

* * *

After dinner, Tania crashed on the couch for an early night while Logan went to do the dishes and Carter swung herself on the porch swing, going over all of Logan's notes to figure out the seal. The wind began to pick up, kicking Carter's long brown hair in her face as she gazed up at the monstrous clouds drifting over the moon. Pulling her hair back into a long ponytail, she returned to her notes.

"Storm's brewin'," Carter looked up at the sound of Logan's voice, and then looked back at the ominous clouds.  
"Looks like it," she agreed, dropping her gaze to bios of the victims. But she had a hard time focusing with Logan just standing there, clearly wanting to talk to her. Thing is, Carter didn't want to. She didn't want it to end up somewhere she'd rather not think about. She came here to hunt and that's it.

"Do you want some help?" he eventually asked, sliding over the pile of notes, to sit on the swing with her.  
"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice," she smiled, taking the pile from him and placing her legs on his lap instead.  
"Find anything worthwhile?"  
"Not anything we don't already know," she leaned her head back against the chain with a sigh.

For a few moments, the two merely watched each other, then looked away with shy smiles.

"We could uh, go back into town tomorrow. Maybe try to find the demons?" he suggested.  
"Yeah," Carter distractedly nodded.  
"What's on your mind?" Logan asked, seeing her sidetracked.

"Have you ever come across a doppelganger in your hunts?" she asked him, looking back into his eyes.  
"Like a type of doppelganger, like a shapeshifter?" he confusedly looked at her.  
"No I mean like an _actual_ doppelganger, a literal evil twin," something dawned on her as she scrambled through the notes, pulling out a small Bible.

"Son of a bitch," she shook her head after reading a few moments.  
"What?"  
"'To everything there is a season,'" she read.  
"That's not Revelations, it's Ecclesiastes," Logan pointed out.

"But it's about the futility of life. Y'know everyone dies, why bother? And it's about opposites. Love, hate. Life, death. Don't you see? Doppelgangers are the embodiment of evil in hunters, the exact _opposite_. Instead of saving people—"

"They're killing them. Specifically the hunters," Logan concluded, understanding where Carter was coming from, "But when does the seal break? How do we know it isn't already broken?"

"The demons wouldn't have come after me like they did if it had already been broken," she slammed the book shut with a sigh.

A low rumble of thunder echoed across the sky and the rain soon followed. Carter didn't mind the rain, it had a calming effect for her. She felt triumphant, knowing what the demons were playing at by creating the doppelgangers. She felt like she could really stop this seal from being broken and _without_ the Winchesters. She only wished she knew why they were after her.

"Does she _always_ snore like that?" Carter chuckled at the sleeping Tania.  
"_That's_ quiet compared to her usual," he smiled, "Come on. There's a bed upstairs."  
"I hope you mean _two_," she smirked, leading the way up.  
"Can't blame a guy for trying, right?" he grinned, "This way."

Logan led them to the corner room with two twin beds pressed against opposing walls. With another childish smile, Logan left Carter to change into her pajamas. But she didn't really feel all that tired. A fact she attributed to staying up so late with the Winchesters. Funny how often she thought about them.

"You decent?" Logan came striding in, with a hand clamped over his eyes.  
"Not that it would've stopped you anyway," she rolled her eyes, briefly giving him a onceover in his boxers and t-shirt.

_Oh my, how the times have changed_, she mused with a smile to herself. Uncovering his eyes he came jumping onto her bed making her laugh. He rolled onto his side as she leaned back into the little niche his legs and his torso made. She forgot what it was like to be with her friends, to be with Logan. It made her feel like a teenager again, like the way a girl her age _should_ feel. No demons, no angels, no apocalypse. Even if it was just for that night, just those few hours.

"I swear, it's not funny. He nearly killed me," Carter laughed, telling Logan about Todd's over-the-top reaction when she saw she was back.  
"It's a little funny," he chuckled, glancing at the clock.

Carter let out small yawn, shifting onto her stomach next to Logan who was lying on his back with his arms tucked under his head.

"What did you do...After I died?" she hesitantly asked him, curiosity getting the better of her.

He looked at her, his bright smile slowly fading.

"It was um...not, something I was prepared for...even though I knew about it," he managed to say with some difficulty. And then he rolled on his side, his body heat radiating off of him as he got that much closer to Carter.

"I cried," he confessed, with just a hint of a smile, "I cried like a baby over your body for...hours. Until your mom and Todd showed up. Even though we had said good bye and I _knew_ you were going to die, I cried."

"You know that I tried to find you, after I was brought back," she admitted, reflecting on that very day, "Your face was the first one I thought of and I went to your house looking for you. I thought, 'my God, I've been given a second chance. I can _finally_ live my life the way I'm supposed to.' But instead of you, I found an angel. An angel who told me that there was a reason for dragging me out of hell and that I couldn't just live life," she bitterly recalls.

It all just came pouring out of her like some kind of dam had broken. Since the day she's met Cas, Carter shoved all her precious memories from her childhood to the back of her mind so she couldn't dwell on the happiness she could've had. For months, all she could remember were the bad things...the _terrible_ things that her father did.

Until Pamela's funeral, where she was suddenly reminded of the friends she grew up with in Richmond. Ever since then, those memories came in flashes as a constant reminder of what she gave up. Carter knew now why she was always so bitter with Sam and Dean. She was blaming _them_ for her new "life", blaming _them_ for dragging her along trying to stop the seals from being broken. She was angry because she could never come to grips with the fact that the life she knew wasn't her life anymore.

She might have said that she wanted nothing to come out of this hunt but that was a lie. Carter had to face this past in order to move on. She had to let herself live there for just a moment just to know what could have been.

"Do you...remember, what happened in hell?" he quietly asked.

"Most of it," she said, seeing him wince, "For some reason I can't remember the last few months. Some of it is coming back but nothing I can make heads or tails of. I remember looking for something...a lake of fire that gives off darkness," she shook her head, everything going fuzzy like it always does when she thinks about that lake.

"Any other deep, meaningful questions you'd like to ask?" she quipped with a smirk.  
"Yeah, but uh, it's not really a question."  
"What then?" she furrowed her eyebrows.  
"I think I'm going to kiss you now," he said, bringing her face closer.

Her smile fell away and nerves got the better of her. With Logan's fingers gently pressing into her cheek, her breath grew shallow and she closed her eyes long before they're lips met. When they did, Carter couldn't bring herself to pull away. She was just kissing him, hand raking through his messy blonde hair, leaning into his firm body. His arm tightened around her body, pulling her firmly to his chest as his hand sent shivers down her spine. She was practically on top of him when she forced herself to stop, her heart racing from the small encounter and apparently so was Logan.

"W-we should go to bed," she suggested, warmth still flooding her face.  
"Yeah. Yeah ok," he agreed with a nod, but then pulled her lips back down onto his.

This time Logan lifted Carter on top of him, her legs on either side of him. Their kiss this time around was more fervent, and the way Carter clutched his shirt was more urgent. His hands dropped down to her legs, squeezing her thighs. A small moan escaped her lips as Logan move from her mouth to a spot on her neck that made her stomach flip and her body shudder. Confidence swelled in Carter's chest and swept aside her previous nerves, letting her sink into the feelings Logan was creating. But almost as if shaking her back into reality, a large clap of thunder startled the girl senseless.

"Holy crap," she breathed, immediately on her feet, fingertips running over her swollen lips in shock.

It wasn't a good thing—or at least didn't feel like one to Carter. She didn't know what came over her. This isn't what she had in mind when she thought about facing her past. _Kissing_ him like _that_...it shook her up, set her on edge.

Her heart was racing from the shock and the prospect of what _almost _happened, and she raked a shaky hand through her long brown hair at a loss for words.

"Carter, I'm sorry," Logan shook his head, sitting up not expecting that reaction from her.  
"No, no, no. It's not...your fault," she looked frantic, trying to piece together her thoughts, "I just...I-I...I need to get out of here."

She pulled a pair of jeans over her sleeper shorts and tugged a jacket over her shoulders, ignoring Logan's calls of protest. Lost in a frenzy of thoughts, Carter swiped the keys from the counter and barreled out into the storm. The walls felt like they were closing in around her and she struggled to breathe in that tiny room. There was nowhere Carter had in mind when she drove back into town and not many places were even open yet at three in the morning. As a result, she ended up parking the SUV in a vacant lot near a ghostly playground and park.

Trying to regain control of her breathing, she sank her forehead into the steering wheel and listened to the howling wind, raging booms of thunder, and the hammering of rain on the roof of the car. Exactly _what_ Carter was so freaked out about, she couldn't pinpoint. Maybe it was the undeniable feelings she still has for her childhood friend or maybe it was the thrilling close contact she never thought she would be able to handle. But that's _exactly_ what happened. She had no problem engrossing herself in Logan because she didn't think _once_ about the fear her father had instilled in her.

It was something unknown for her. She never thought she could do something like that without thinking about _him_. Things just happened so fast in that room that she simply wasn't ready for.

Heaving a great sigh, Carter leaned back into her seat and wiped away the anxious tears she had built up. If she had known coming to New Haven would've been this hard, she never would've come.


	26. Chapter 25

**I thought since the last one was so uneventful that you guys deserved a better one. So here you are!**

* * *

There are only a couple other people at the coffee shop when Carter walks in, two businessmen probably in for an early start as they type away on their laptops. Deciding not to go back to the cabin, Carter figured she could focus on the hunt. Sleep didn't really feel like an option anymore and the night would only join the hundreds of sleepless nights she's had.

Carter sat silently at the counter by the window, watching the rain fall and the sky gradually lighten. Her phone sat open in front of her, Dean's name highlighted in the address book as she contemplated calling the elder hunter, unsurely picking at the plastic lid on her coffee. Calling Dean for help was like admitting defeat, taking the easy way out. Carter didn't know if she could stand Dean's smug look as he came to help stop the seal. Her thumb slid over the call button on more than one occasion before she let out a frustrated sigh and pocketed the little Evo.

Sipping a bit of her coffee, Carter let the bitter taste roll over her tongue before swallowing and turning to leave. But when she turned around she found herself utterly alone, nothing but the sound of the moaning wind in her ears.

_When did the other two leave?_ she wondered, all her senses going on high alert.

Then she felt it.

That all-consuming dread of hell that engulfed her nostrils and nearly made her gag. Carter didn't turn in time to block the demon's blow but as he took another swing she was able to fight back.

"Carter Augustine!" it laughed, lamely dodging her blows as if he wasn't really invested in the fight. It was toying with her, she knew that and it only angered her more. No matter which way she tried attacking, though, the demon was faster and when two more came up behind her she knew she had no chance.

"Blimey they told me you were a right little minx but I wasn't expecting this," he crooned in accented English, making his onceover of her painfully obvious.

She resisted the urge to spit in his face as her chest heaved up and down from the exertion of energy and her cheek still throbbed from the first punch.

"They also told me you were smart."

_He doesn't want to kill me_, she suddenly realized.

"There's the light bulb," he wickedly beams.  
"What do you want?" she snarled, not at all in the mood to be used by a demon.  
"A little more respect for one," he furrows his eyebrow, motioning to one of the others.

The one demon went to lock the door while other dealt a crippling blow to her stomach. She doubled over, reeling to catch her breath.

"I'm listening," she gritted her teeth, glaring at the demon.  
"Come. Sit," he beckoned her to sit with him at a table.

She shook the big goon's arm off her before distantly sitting from the other. The host—seemingly eerily familiar to Carter— was one of the businessmen, a man in his mid-twenties with a mess of dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a firm jawline. Carter would've found his smile handsome if it weren't for the ugly beast behind it.

"It's okay to look," the demon gestured to himself once more, clearly playing off of Carter's thoughts, "Oh and by the way, this bloke's not an ad exec. He's a hunter...a friend of that beastly brother of yours. Right piece of work _he_ is..."

Carter gasped, realizing why he looked so familiar, "Damon!"

"Sorry, no. I'm Reaver. What's the matter, love? You look a tad off colour," he frowns.

Damon Casterly, for sure, was a friend of Todd's, one that Carter didn't know all that much about, save for that fact he was a hunter. And he wasn't stupid. He knew what went on in that Augstine household, even if Todd never actually admitted it. There were times in Carter's childhood that Damon didn't speak to Todd because of the things Todd pretended not to see. Damon wasn't a constant presence in Carter's life—not like Logan and Tania were—but when he was around, he was like a saving grace.

"Just what the hell do you want with me?" she forced herself to turn it into an aggressive demand rather than an all-out yell.  
"I'm sure you're aware of the doppelgangers, no?" he finally got to the point.  
"Are you going to tell me it's not you?" she snidely commented, garnering a harsh look from this Reaver.

"Of course it's me," he snapped but then regained his composure, "But we can only keep them under wraps for so long. Which is why I had been hoping you would show up. And here you are..._alone_ no less."

Carter's nostrils flared as she not-so-patiently waited for him to finally just tell her why he cornered her.

"A seal, my pretty little friend," he finally brought it out, "We need you to break a seal."  
"Fuck off. I'm not helping _you_ break a _seal_," she scoffed, leaning back into her chair with a heavy thud.  
"I could always just kill you," his face darkened, "And what would poor, unfortunate Dean do without you?"

Carter glowered at the demon, weighing her limited options.

"Besides, you wouldn't actually be breaking it," he admitted with a bored look, "You'd be saving it."  
"Exactly how does _that_ work?" she folded her arms across her chest.

"A race to finish!" he exclaimed with a wild flurry of his hand, "The proverbial good versus evil, love. You win, the seal remains intact. _I_ win, the seal cracks like a Lohan out of rehab and we're one step closer to Lucifer walking the earth."

"You're presenting me with a _deal_?" she frowned.  
"Only way to break the seal, love," he grinned.

She heaved a frustrated sigh. What choice does she have? There's no guarantee that if she lets the demon kill her that Cas will bring her back. Getting her out of hell one time was hard enough...but for a second? There was also no chance of her getting by the three demons in the store, not without her enchanted pistol.

"What do I have to do?" she sighed again, not wanting to meet the demon's gaze.  
"Just be your noble, cheeky self. You represent the good: pure, innocent, a martyr. The doppelgangers are your opposition and they are the evil. They kill the innocent and you save them. First one to ten is the winner."

Carter felt sick to her stomach as she met the cold black stare of the demon. Her skin crawled and sweat beaded her brow.

"Fine," she breathed, the word tasting like poison on her lips.

"First things first, we can't have you with any advantages now," Reaver abruptly lashed out, taking hold of Carter's forearm and making a deep cut with a previously concealed pocket knife.

"What the hell was that?" she shouted, clutching her arm to her chest as it seared with pain, while Reaver the demon smoothed his thumb over the ruby red blood smearing his fingers.

"Think for a moment, it'll come to you," he instructs, wiping his fingers of blood.

For a few meticulous seconds all Carter could focus on was the anger boiling in her heart and the throb in her arm. But once she got passed all that she felt it...or rather _didn't_. She couldn't feel the dread of hell, or the stench of death. And when she looked at the demon in front of her, all she saw was her brother's friend, no shadow of a demon behind his face.

He took away her ability to sense the supernatural.

"What did you do?" she very quietly asked, her face growing pale at her sudden disadvantage and feeling very vulnerable as a result.  
"Oh, don't look so upset. I'll give it back when it's over...if you win that is," he smirked.  
"And what if I lose?" her voice rose, "What else am I risking?"  
"Well if I tell you 'your life' then you have no incentive to play my game," he pouted.

She let out an irritated growl, "Have it your way then! But _when_ I win, you're the first thing I'm coming after."

"Is that a promise?" he leaned forward with a smug smirk, his tongue wetting his lips in a suggestive manner.

The urge to punch him suddenly won out and Carter threw her fist in his face.

"Sorry, Damon," she muttered, standing to leave but was blocked by the other two demons.

"Ah, aren't you forgetting something?" Reaver stopped her, rubbing his jaw, "The deal is no good without a kiss."

"You sick son of a bitch!" she stormed over to him to swing another punch. But the demon deftly slinked his arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, and eagerly slipping his tongue into her mouth. Despite being positively repulsed by his action, Carter kissed the demon back, feeling his fingers curl into her hair.

After what seemed like ages, he pulled away, smirking wildly at her, "Now that's a good girl. I daresay your brother's friend in here enjoyed it just as much as I did."

Carter shoved the demon away from her, no words to even describe the anger she's feeling.

"Run along now, love. You've got quite the challenge ahead of you."

Sticking her middle finger out, Carter blows past the other two demons and back into the rain. Although, for a moment there, she could've sworn she saw a dark shape out the corner of her eye. And it vaguely resembled _her_.

* * *

"You guys better get down here," Carter spoke into her phone, racing through the streets of New Haven, "I might've just made a really big mistake."

Carter slammed her head against the head rest in frustration. She knew if Dean were here he'd be chewing her out for making that deal, even if the alternative was risking death. But Carter didn't realize the painful want to stay alive.

_"Ok. Logan said he's on to something so we'll be there as soon as we can,"_ Tania says on the other end.  
"No, Tania. Tell him to drop everything and get—"

Carter was suddenly struck on the passenger side by a school bus, ramming her into a traffic pole. Smoke and steam curled from the pretzeled engine underneath the hood and Carter disengaged herself from the deployed air bag and seatbelt that was cutting into her skin. Heading spinning from her aggravated concussion, Carter pulled herself from the car through the window, finding herself surrounded by three of the victims...the doppelgangers.

"Mighty fine time to be without silver," she grumbled, eyeing up her competition.

Then she spotted her phone lying on the ground, still connected to Tania.

"Hey, uh, T!" she yelled, as the doppelgangers closed in around her, "Get into town. NOW!"

Bursting into a run, Carter swiped up her phone from the ground and dashed into the park from earlier in the morning. Completely defenseless, the only thing Carter could do was evade the monsters and try to buy some time for Tania and Logan to find her. Fifteen minutes is all she'd need.

The rain had since stopped but the ground was slick with mud, slowing Carter's progress as she darted in and out of the trees in the small wood, trying everything to deter her pursuers. It killed her not knowing how far behind her they were because without her power she's completely blind. It scared her. But that fear is what kept Carter going, pushing the pain away and running on. The woods gave way to several picnic areas, riddled with trash from yesterday's parties. Carter tried the door on two of the shelters before the third one finally fell open and she rushed inside, diving over the counter to hide.

Her hand flew over her mouth to muffle her harsh breathing as she heard soft footsteps slowly following. Carter's hand crept over the drawers above her head, gradually sliding them open, dipping in her hand in search of a silver knife. The first drawer yielded nothing and one of the doppelgangers burst into the room just as her hand gripped the handle of a knife. She stabbed the humanly creature, praying that the knife was silver.

To her great relief, the life slid from the monster's evil eyes and Carter yanked the knife from his chest with a suctioned pop. There were two more doppelgangers somewhere in the building but she now had a viable weapon. Chest still heaving, she crept from her hiding position and slinked out of the room. Somewhere down the hall, a mass of pots and pans crashed to the ground and Carter paused. This was just the hesitation another doppelganger needed, to kick the knife from her hand and forced her against the wall, his fat fingers enclosing her throat, cutting off all source of oxygen. Beneath his fingers, Carter could feel her neck bruise but that was the least of her worries as her vision began to darken and stars swam before her eyes.

Then the doppelganger fell away, releasing Carter from his firm grip. The small girl collapsed to the ground, gagging on the sudden inflow of air to her lungs.

"We're here, Carter," she heard Logan's comforting voice and then felt his arm lifting her to her feet. Behind them, Tania was in a fierce battle with brute doppelganger, quickly gaining the upper hand with her speed. But no one saw the third one come up behind her.

The shot rang loud and clear and the bullet that was fired, imbedded itself in Tania's side. As Tania crumpled to the ground, the doppelgangers ran off, seeing that they wouldn't win this fight with two other vengeful hunters. Carter rushed to her friend's side yelling to Logan, "Call 911!"

"Ugh, sonova bitch," Tania groaned, holding her side.  
"Stop moving, we gotta get you to the hospital," Carter held her friend in place.  
"Hospital? Screw that, I'm fine," she tried sitting up but was forced back down, this time by Logan who said an ambulance was on its way.

* * *

Tania was forced to stay in the hospital for several days and despite the fact that Carter was losing the race with three more hunters being killed, the hunter had resolved to stay with her friend. Tania's heart monitor steadily beeped with beat of the wounded hunter's heart as she slept. Carter sat at her friend's bedside, silently watching over her. Her attention was drawn away, though, when Logan arrived.

"Hey," he offered her a small smile.  
"Hey," she smiled back.

With Tania in the hospital, Logan and Carter were allowed more time alone. Time that they took full advantage of, rekindling old flames. Nothing has happened since the other night but Carter would be much better prepared if it did.

"Two more, Carter," Logan sighed, handing her a slip of paper with the information of two more hunters.

She only took a brief glance at it before crumpling it into a ball. Logan dropped into the chair next to her, observing how stressed she is.

"Tania would forgive you if you went after these doppelgangers, you know," he whispered, tugging at the ends of her hair.  
"I should never have made that deal," she answered, recognizing that—even before Tania was injured—she never had a chance, "But I just didn't want to die."

The tremor in her voice gave away how upset she really was.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Logan cooed, "You did the only thing you could."  
"And now a seal is going to break because of it," she hissed, angry with herself, not Logan.  
"Maybe. Maybe not. I think I might've figured out how the demons are controlling the doppelgangers. You can still do this," he said.  
"How? I don't know _any_ of the hunter's they're targeting. I don't know _where_ any of the doppelgangers are or when they're going to strike. I'm _completely_ in the dark."

Despite Carter's rant, Logan let out a chuckle, earning him a funny look.

"Exactly _what_ is so funny?" she sneered.  
"You're just so _angry_ all the time," he smiled and once Carter heard his words, her frown turned into one as well.

"It's been said."

"You put way too much pressure on yourself, Carter. You don't have to do everything on your own. Tania's here for you..._I'm_ here for you," he gently brushed her hair from her face.

"That's the best you could come up with?" Carter giggled but then was silenced when Logan brought her face forward, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

This time Carter _was_ ready and melted into that kiss, raking her fingers through his soft hair. Logan smiled against her lips at how she embraced his contact and he smoothed his hand down the side of her body, creating a trail of shivers on her skin.

"_Must_ you two do that _here_?" Tania voice suddenly broke them apart.

The pair exchanged sheepish grins, Logan scratching the back of his head and Carter's cheeks flushing with pink. Feeling the ball of paper in her hand, a new sense of determination swelled in the young hunter and she stood, pulling on her jacket.

"Where are you going?" Logan confusedly stood with her.

"I've got a seal to save."

* * *

**I wasn't planning on introducing a new demon but when I started writing this, Reaver's personality just hit me and I couldn't **_**not**_** include him. I don't have a picture of Damon/Reaver but I envisioned him as Richard Madden. And I mean the clean-shaven, brunette Richard Madden, not the Sirens Richard Madden. **

**But I'll let you know when/if I add him to my profile.**


	27. Chapter 26

**My apologies! My Narnia story ended with 26 so that's what you guys read! Here is the REAL chapter 26 for Through Night and Chaos...**

* * *

Dean watched the flames flicker and swallow his brother's—half-brother's—body on the funeral pyre. Oddly enough, staring at the smoking mass, Adam was not who Dean was thinking about.

"You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person," he bitterly said, Sam looking over, "I mean, I worshipped the guy, y'know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. And I see that now."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sam nods.  
"You take it any way you want," Dean shakes his head, those flames still wickedly glaring in his eyes.

Carter.

The girl's absence affected him more than he thought it would. It's been days since the last time he heard from her, granted they've been busy with ghouls and secret half-brothers, but he had at least expected some kind voicemail or text just saying that she was all right. But nothing. It set Dean's teeth on edge not knowing where she is or if she's even alive. Even worse, he doesn't know _why_ he's so concerned about her. She's not his girlfriend. She's not even _family_. He thought more about Carter in this past week than he had about Adam who was his own blood.

"Have you heard from Carter?" Sam quietly asked.

Dean looked at his brother, almost annoyed that he was thinking about her too.

"No," he shook his head.  
"Do you think she's ok?" Sam unsurely asked, just wanting to hear some reassurance from Dean.  
"Carter's a tough chick. I'm sure she's fine."

If only Dean believed his own words. Every part of him hoped to _God_ the girl was all right. He didn't know if he could bear watching her body engulfed in flames like Adam. Almost every instinct told Dean to go racing off to New Haven in search of her but he knew that if he showed up Carter would kick his ass for stealing her thunder. At this thought, Dean allowed himself a small smirk able to _easily_ picture her exact reaction. But as quickly as the smirk came, it was gone again as he fingered the cell phone in his pocket, just wishing she would give him a damn phone call.

Soon, the white-hot flames devoured what was left of Adam's mutilated body and the remaining Winchesters sauntered back to the car with heavy hearts. Unable to sit still any longer, Dean pulled out his phone, instantly dialing Carter's number.

"What are you doing?" Sam wondered.  
"It's been a week. I'm calling her," Dean stiffly replied with a frown as he received Carter's voicemail message. Muttering a short curse he called her again but this time it rang once and went to voicemail.

She ignored his call!

"Dammit, Carter!" he gruffly yelled but then his heart jumped when he saw his screen light up with a text from her.

Busy. Hit you back later.

* * *

Carter's position was nearly given away with Dean's little call. She had forgotten to turn her phone to silent so the Goo Goo Dolls' "Big Machine" came out as a ringtone loud and clear in the back of the coffee shop. After some scrambling and silent cursing she was able to silence the black device before any of the demons found her. At the moment, she was crouched—rather uncomfortably—between a counter and a refrigerator, just waiting for that Reaver demon to show up.

According to Logan, Reaver is creating doppelgangers with a rune taken from the seventh circle. With more clever research on Logan's part, he discovered that Reaver is the demon in command of that particular part of hell.

Violence.

Carter shuddered at the thought, _He's the Grand Marquis of the Seventh Circle_.

She wished she hadn't come alone. Backup would've been nice in this situation, but Logan was with Tania and didn't want to leave her in the hospital unprotected from the doppelgangers. Logan had told Carter not to do anything stupid...that she should wait to attack until Tania was out. Blatantly lying to his face she said she was just going to research more. She would've gotten away with her lie, too, if he didn't call her just as she was setting her trap.

There he was.

Reaver.

Still in Damon's body.

_Poor Damon_, Carter shook her head, watching as Reaver dragged a woman by her hair into the store. By the tough look about her, Carter would guess that she's another hunter. They were preparing to create another doppelganger. Carter shifted her weight between her feet and clicked the safety off her enchanted pistol, just waiting for the stone to appear.

As soon as it did, Carter sprang from her hiding spot, firing two shots into the demon goons. Reaver barked out a hearty laugh, threateningly pressing a knive to the other hunter's neck.

"Thought I might be expecting some sort of ill-conceived attack from you, love!" he wickedly grinned, not fazed by the gun Carter had pointed at his head.  
"Let the girl go," she commanded, only receiving a wider smirk.  
"Not likely. You may have had no issue killing those two behind you but you wouldn't dare hurt _this_ meat suit," he sneered, pressing his blade deeper into the woman's neck, eliciting from her a cry of pain.

Carter hadn't counted on hostages when she formed her plan. If she could just get to the electrical panel...

"You're supposed to be hunting doppelgangers not demons," he reminded her, nodding toward the two bodies slumped over in pools of ruby liquid.  
"The more the merrier," she snidely commented, inching her way to the electrics.  
"If you plan on saving this seal you'll have to do much better than this," he shook his head with a reproving look, "You've only killed what? Two? _Maybe_ three? Tut, tut."  
"Maybe that isn't my strategy," she replied, making eye contact with the woman.

In that unspoken conversation, the woman understood that she was to react when Carter did.

"Oh really? You have a strategy...OI!"

During his taunt, Carter dove for the panel as the hunter kicked herself away from the demon. In one swift motion, Carter flipped on a large dome light aimed directly at the ceiling and in the shadows a devil's trap formed just over the head of the demon. Reaver looked up at the trap then back directly into Carter's eyes with a cruel smirk and a sarcastic slow clap.

"Clever girl," he leered, "And now what, pray tell me, do you plan to do with me?"  
"I want to make a deal," she heavily breathed, slightly relieved now that the woman was out of harm's way.

"Are you insane? Send the bastard back to hell!" the hunter yelled.  
"Not when he has something I want!" Carter shouted back, "Leave this to me."

Carter doesn't get along too well with hunter's she doesn't know, especially stupid bitches who get kidnapped by demons. The hunter, with a mean stare and a rude hand gesture, leaves Carter with alone with Reaver.

"You should have let me kill her," he lazily yawns.  
"Shut up. I want the rune," she cut him off, completely taking him off guard with her request.  
"How do you know about that?" he growled.  
"Clever girl," she mimicked with a smirk.

"And what is it you plan to give me in return?" he didn't make an effort to conceal his onceover of her.  
"I'll let you out of the devil's trap," she simply said.

Reaver idly tapped his chin with his fingers, contemplating her offer, "_Not_ as a cloud of black smoke back to hell."

Well that _was_ her plan.

"I want the rune first," she held out her hand.  
"Not until I know you won't exorcise me," he sternly said, garnering a frustrated sigh.  
"Fine. I won't let you out by sending you back to hell. Satisfied?" she stepped closer to the edge of the trap.  
"I suppose," he acquiesces, beckoning her forward with his index finger.

Carter's face curled into disgust at the prospect of kissing this demon again but it's better to just get it over with. She edged her lips closer to his and was just about to make connect when he drew back.

"I have one more condition," he smirked, voice low and husky, "The kiss to seal the deal has to be legitimate. No writhing, wincing, or half-arsed effort. Full on the mouth...as if you were with a lover."

Carter glowered at the demon with her arms folded over her chest.

"Don't look so sour, love," he chided still smirking as he roughly grabbed her hips, turning her body so that she was facing him straight on.

She scowled at the demon, not knowing how on earth she was going to do this. The demon brought her against his body and her eyes fluttered closed, one person strangely popping in her mind.

Dean.

Why Dean came up, she didn't know...but he did. As the demon's lips came down on hers, she thought about the few times she's kissed the other hunter. How his fingers sank into body, pressing her closer to him and exerting his control over her. How he melted away all her insecurities, allowing her to react to his touch. Carter's face flushed with warmth as she slid her hand up the demon's smooth cheek and fisted her hand through his curly brown hair, all pretending that it was Dean's stubble-covered cheeks and soft, short hair.

Though she had never gotten very far in her kiss with Dean, she imagined his intensity would increase, his head tilting at an angle so he could kiss her more deeply, his hand tracing over the contours of her body. With his encouragement, she, too, would kiss him back harder, slightly pulling and tugging with her teeth in a playful manner then smoothing it over with gentle laves of her tongue. The demon smirked against her lips at the aggressive gesture, finally separating his lips from hers.

Carter was surprised at how her breath was now coming out in short ragged huffs, and how her body was significantly warmer to the touch.

_Holy crap_ she thought, not knowing how those thoughts of _Dean_ invaded her mind.

"Feisty," he smugly smirked.  
"I kissed you, now give me the rune," she glared, holding out her hand again.  
"All right, _fine_," he whined with a roll of his eyes, jamming his hand in his pocket to produce a small, polished, black stone with a strange script engraved in it.

Enochian.

_Angels?_ Carter frowned at seeing the angelic script in the palm of her hand.

"You've got the stone now let me out," the demon frowned.  
"There's a problem," Carter leered with a smirk, "you're still riding my friend."  
"We made a deal!" he barked, seeing where Carter was going.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanic protestas. Omnis incursio infernalis adversii, omnis congregatio. Et secta diobalica..." the demons was beginning to writhe and twitch, his eyes turning black as hell pulled him from the host, "Ergo, draco maledicte, Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire."

Carter couldn't finish the ritual, she had made a deal. But she was going to finish the exorcism as soon as the light was off.

"You _bitch_," he growled, "Don't think for one _second_ I'm not coming after you when this is all said and done."

Carter swallowed the lump in her throat and as soon as the light was off, the demon lunged, punching her brutally in the face. The sting of his rings cut sharply into her face but Carter managed to get her feet under him and kicked him off her body.

"Te rogamus ad—"

But the demon was already fleeing from Damon's mouth in a cloud of black smoke. He escaped, Damon's body crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap. Carter pressed the back of her hand against the cut above her eye, already feeling it swell then her eyes turned to Damon who was—thankfully—beginning to stir with groans of pain.

"Oi, my head," he reeled, clutching his face with his hands.  
"Damon," Carter softly spoke, crawling over to him, gently bringing his hands down to examine his face.  
"Carter? Thank God you're all right. The last thing I remember was that hell-spawn attacking you," he breathed, his voice laden with a heavy Scottish accent making Carter smile. Now that it was Damon speaking, his voice was soft and deep, not snarky like the demon's.

"You're hurt," his thumb ran over the small cut on her forehead.  
"Trust me, I've had worse," she chuckled, "What about _you_? How long have you been possessed by that _thing_?"  
"Well a few months ago your brother called me asking if I could help him track you down," Carter shamefully looked down at his words, "I told him he was barmy and to do it 'imself, the lousy sod. Anyway, I had just flown in from Edinburgh when I was possessed. That was about a month ago."

"I didn't mean for you to get mixed up in this," Carter shook her head.  
"Ah, s'alright," he dismissively waved his hand with a smile, "C'mon, up you get," he took Carter's hands and lifted her to her feet.

Taking care of the two bodies was solemn work and not much was said. Carter felt slightly awkward, being alone with one of her older brother's friends, even if it was Damon. She didn't quite know where his stance is on everything that had happened with her brother. For all she knows, he could kidnap her and take her to Todd.

"Still a quiet, lass," he mused with a chuckle as they walked outside.  
"I'm not quiet," she lamely defended herself, making him laugh.  
"Then I suppose you just don't say much," he teased, "You haven't changed at all...apart from the obvious."  
"Obvious?" she confusedly looked at him, still feeling like a little girl to him.

His laugh, this time, was a bit sheepish and once she saw the blush creeping over his cheeks she understood and in turn, blushed from the embarrassment of her naivety.

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked with a smile.  
"Well I er, uh...you..." he fumbled to find the right words until he just deeply exhaled, "Yes. You're very pretty, Carter."

She didn't know why she was fishing for a compliment but she felt less like a little girl when he said it.

"So, ahem, what's this business about seals?" he cleared his throat, changing the subject.  
"I don't think you want to know," Carter sighed.  
"Probably not but I want to make sure you're all right," he said with a light chuckle.  
"I'll be fine, I promise. I've got things under control," she reassured him, dialing the number for a cab.

Damon was something else. Even after all these years he still wanted to protect her, almost as if _he_ were her big brother. It was so endearing to Carter. She found herself growing fond of him as he would tease her then make up for it with another compliment. And when the cab came, she was sad to have to say goodbye.

"You're sure you don't need me to stay?" Damon asked her, scratching the back of his head.  
"I'm sure. But here, take this," Carter handed him a slip of paper with her number on it, "Give me a call if you ever need anything."  
"Same to you," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her in a quick embrace, "I wish we had met under better circumstances."  
"If only," Carter chuckled, "Maybe next time we can beat the crap out of Todd."

Damon barked out a laugh, ruffling up her hair as he glanced back down at the paper, "The first number I get in America is from the hot younger sister of my former best mate," he teased with a smile as Carter tried to punch his arm.

"Get outta here, fool," she chuckled, watching as he climbed into the back seat, "Take care of yourself!"  
"Always!" he grinned as the cab pulled away.

Carter watched him go with her hands folded behind her head, the stone tucked in her palm. She looked at its smooth edges, knowing that Logan and Tania will want to be there when she destroys it.

She did it.

The seal would be saved.

She knew she could do this without the Winchester's, she just needed a little convincing.

* * *

"Ok do we have everything? Your duffel, your purse..." Logan scrambled around the hospital room while Tania impatiently sat in a wheelchair.  
"Logan! Quit being such a _woman_, let's just go already. Carter could need our help," the girl frustratingly shouted, earning a frown from her friend.  
"Fine. But if we find out we've left something behind, I'm _not_ going to be the one who comes back looking for it," he shoulders her duffel, pushing the chair out into the hall.

"We'll just send Carter," Tania snickered, even making Logan chuckle.

The pair headed out to the back lot where Logan had parked his SUV after Tania was officially discharged from the hospital. Tania swatted Logan's hands away as he tried lifting her from the wheelchair and she helped him load her belongings into the car.

"What's this? Leaving so soon!" Carter's voice cheerily said, surprising the other two hunters.  
"Carter!" Tania smiled, gingerly hugging her best friend.

Logan made to go hug her as well but then he remembered that he was pissed at her.

"I've got a bone to pick with you!" he yelled, taking her aback.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Going off after demons _alone_!"

Carter couldn't help the smile that raced across her cheeks, "I got the stone."

"You're lucky you're not hurt—wait, really?" he asked, making her and Tania laugh.

He grumbled at their amusement but cracked a smile when Carter slinked her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face in his chest.

"Still mad?" she peered up at him, still enveloping him in her arms.  
"Nah, I guess not. Look at you, not even a scratch on ya'," he pressed his lips to hers, hearing a disgruntled noise from Tania.

"Bleh, can't you too wait until _after_ we've destroyed this stone? Let's see it, Carter," Tania interrupted their moment, holding out her hand.

As Carter pulled away from him, an uneasy feeling settled over Logan and he soon discovered why. He watched it happen in slow motion: Carter walking toward Tania, a sinister shadow darkening her face as she suddenly lashed out, striking Tania down. Carter had Tania pinned, her arm around her neck in a choke hold.

"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Logan shouted, watching Tania struggle to breathe.

Her only response was a deeply disturbing smirk as she snapped Tania's neck with a quick twist of her arm.

"NO!" Logan cried and was suddenly defending himself from her blows. He didn't understand. She was so fast, so _brutal_. What happened to her? His thoughts impeded his movement and Carter was able to hurl him to the ground, ready to stomp on his neck but a voice drew her attention away from him.

"Get the hell away from him!"

Wriggling underneath Carter's foot, Logan was able to see where the voice came from and he nearly fainted...it was Carter, pointing a gun directly at the other Carter's chest.

The doppelganger.

Carter had been turned into a doppelganger.

"I said 'Back. Off.'" she growled, cocking the gun and slowly stepping forward.  
"Car-ter," Logan struggled under the weight of the doppelganger's foot.

The doppelganger didn't make any sort movement away from Logan. Without hesitation, two shots rang out loud and clear, striking the doppelganger directly in the chest, her body dropping to the ground as Logan scrambled away from her.

"Logan," Carter—the _real_ Carter—choked back a sob, crashing down into the pavement next to him, staring horrifically at Tania's body.

She should never have left them alone. Back at the coffee shop, she thought she saw her but she wrote it off as nothing. She should've told them even if she didn't think it was anything. She should've known. She didn't know it would end up like _this_.

Tania is _dead_.

Sob after sob wracked Carter's body and silent tears sped down Logan's cheeks as he tried calming the girl in his arms. She had to get a grip; they couldn't just leave Tania's body in the middle of a hospital parking lot. Nothing Logan said could get her to stop, though, he doesn't blame her one bit. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her to his car while he hollowly wrapped Tania in a sheet, nearly losing his own cool.

Tania is dead.

* * *

**I'm not too thrilled with this chapter. I'm convinced my muse was working against me and as a result I feel like my writing is poor. The next chapter should be much better for a **_**number**_** of reasons :)**


	28. Chapter 27

**Next chapter! I apologize for the wait, school is murder. **

**I posted a picture of Damon/Reaver that I had promised earlier. I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do with those two characters yet. There seems to be some storylines that I could take...**

**Also, M rating **_**definitely**_** comes into play as there is sex/smut/lemons or whatever you'd like to call it. If you don't feel like reading it just skip the first section and start reading after the first page break.**

**I must warn you that this one is pretty sad as well. **

* * *

It was a torturous drive back to the cabin; Carter trying to control her sobs, the cut above her eye stinging something fierce while Logan kept having to rub the tears from his eyes to clear his vision for driving. By the time they reached the cabin, it was nearly night fall. Carter heard Logan taking Tania from the back of the car and out into the wood, but she couldn't bring herself to follow. A whole new wave of emotion settled over her and her body trembled as the tears flooded from her eyes.

Tania was gone.

It was her fault.

She shouldn't have left them alone.

She could've saved her.

If only she had gotten there sooner but no...she was _flirting_ with Damon...while Tania was dying.

Even as night fell, Carter remained buckled in that car, her sobs creating hiccups as the emotion gave way to emptiness. Carter didn't even respond when Logan came back and unbuckled her, carrying her into the cabin to situate her on the couch.

Logan was worried. He had never seen Carter like this, not even when she came running to his house away from her father. She's never been this void of emotion. It scared him. He felt like he should've known. He should've known it wasn't Carter. There was not a single scar on that doppelganger...she was too perfect. It killed him inside knowing that he mistook the doppelganger for the real Carter.

Carter didn't stir until she heard groaning and clunking of the pipes cutting off the supply of water to the bathroom.

_Logan_ she thought.

She would never forgive herself if she didn't tell him how she feels about him. Not after what happened to Tania. He _had_ to know. With resolve firm in her mind, she tugged off her jacket, and sank into the relaxing cushions of the couch. A heavy sigh passed her lips as she noticed the silence around the cabin without Tania around. It was strange; she felt almost as if Tania would just pop up somewhere, even though she knew that wasn't true.

"Hey," Logan's voice drew her out of her trance. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower and the t-shirt he was wearing clung to his chest where he didn't dry-off completely.

"Hey," she meekly replied, making room for him on the couch. Once he was settled, she crawled over next to him, getting as close as she could to him. She wallowed in his warmth and felt a deep sense of security relax in her chest as his arm circled around her shoulders.

"I almost lost you," she breathed, feeling the emotion swim back into her eyes. Logan tightened his hold around her, burying his face in her hair.  
"You didn't," he whispered back.  
"I could've," she said, lifting her head from his chest to look in his eyes, "And you wouldn't have known that..." her words got caught in her throat.  
"Known what?" he softly urged, cocking his head to the side, letting his fingers slide between the soft strands of her hair.

Carter briefly glanced down as her shyness and nervousness took hold of her but that sense of resolve quickly surged through, "That I...still have feelings for you. _Strong_ feelings. I told myself I didn't want to...but I find myself in a position I never thought I would."

"And what's that?" he asked, though, knowing what she was referring to. He just wanted to hear her say it. But he didn't get it. He got something better: Carter's sweet lips against his.

It was slightly rushed and inexperienced but Logan forgave her for it, knowing all that she's been through, and he was glad to guide her through it. His caresses began gentle, fingertips tracing over her flushed cheeks, along her jaw, down her neck and to her shoulder where they sank into the soft skin of her arm. Becoming lost in his touch, Carter's lips parted and slightly shivered when Logan's tongue met hers in a tender kiss. Her hand fell on the buckle of his belt, while the other pressed deeply into the fabric of his shirt, wanting more.

Encouraged by Carter's intense hints, Logan's hands grazed the curves of her hips, pulling her closer to him so he could kiss her deeply. From there, it quickly turned feverish and frenzied with Logan's fingers playing with the hem of her shirt before they plunged under the fabric, his cool hands causing her muscles to contract but then relax as his hands worked wonders on her skin. Separating his lips from hers, Logan's hands pushed the shirt higher up her torso. Following his lead, Carter raised her arms above her head to let the shirt come away from her body.

A shudder from the sudden cold shook her body. She bit her lower lip, the weight of Logan's stare heavy on her as she felt his eyes drink in the exposed skin of her chest. She saw the desire there, in his blue eyes, and felt her shyness edge away as she reclaimed his mouth in hers, nothing innocent about the way she kissed him.

Carter gave another shiver, making Logan smirk against her lips. She pulled back, cheeks flushed as more warmth spread throughout her body causing her breath to come out ragged.

"Keep me warm," she pleaded, placing his hands on her bare waist as she swung a leg over him, her lips now hovering above his. Logan shuddered at the longing in her voice, forcefully pulling her down on his hips with a deep, primal sound that caused goose bumps to race across her skin.

Carter moaned when Logan's mouth left hers, his tongue sweeping down her neck and his hands falling to her ass. Her back arched from his touch and she tossed her head back, giving him every bit of exposed skin. Her moan egged Logan on and she let out a yelp as he abruptly rose from the couch, her legs firmly around his body. Making his way up the steps, Logan captured Carter's mouth, his hands tangled in her mess of brown hair. Briefly taking her lips from his she maneuvered his t-shirt from his body, carelessly tossing it away as Logan kicked open the bedroom door.

Blinded and dizzy from lust, Logan collapsed onto the bed firmly between Carter's spread legs. Her moan drove him wild as his fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt. The sight of her lying there on the bed, cheeks flushed, chest taut and heaving up and down made him forget the belt as he cursed, fervently kissing her again.

God, just the _feeling_ of Logan between her legs was enough to set Carter off. She was slightly amused and slightly annoyed that he forgot his belt but was appeased when his fingers were able to make quick work of her bra. A deep tingly feeling took over her abdomen as the bra came away from her breasts. Logan pulled away, his eyes drinking in the sight below him. He meticulously traced his fingers over the tattoo, her scars, and finally her breasts.

"Oh God," Carter moaned, tantalized by Logan's massaging strokes over her breasts. He was gentle but that didn't mean she couldn't feel his urgency. She felt her skin become submerged in burning warmth as his head bowed down, his mouth replacing his hands. His tongue laved over her hard nipple and the soft tissue of her breast while his hands undid the button of her jeans.

He slowly pulled down her jeans, loving every new inch of skin that was exposed. Tossing away her jeans he pressed open mouth kisses from her toes all the way up the length of her leg to her navel while his fingers dipped below her lacy panties, ripping them from her body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, watching her as his fingers found her center between her legs.

"Logan," she gasped, feeling his fingers slip inside her. She let his fingers do the work, her head falling back and sinking into the pillow. His pace was slow and torturous, and she was unable to control the small, short bucks of her hips in rhythm with his motion. Pleasure burst between her legs when she felt his tongue swirl over the sensitive tissue. Everything went wild from there, her hand fisting through his hair as she felt her orgasm coming. Her heels wrapped around his back and pressed deeply into his muscles as he quickened his pace, feeling all her muscles tense around him.

"Don'tstopLogan" she gasped, her muscles tense as her back arched, ecstasy finally exploding within her. Logan didn't stop until he felt her relax into the bed, her hair splayed out around the pillow, her chest heaving up and down. He loved knowing that _he_ made her feel that way and moved up and over her again, his hand sliding along the side of her body, taking in every curve. Carter reached out to him, bringing him close to sweep her tongue over his lips as he situated himself between her legs. Logan brought himself to his knees working at his jeans again with much more success this time. Boxers and all, the clothes fell to the floor and Carter shuddered again at the sight of his lean, bare body. Logan tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth making Carter smirk and she watched him slide it on, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

Carter guided him back over her, her body aching for Logan to come between her legs. But she was also nervous. As far as virgins go, Carter is not one for many horrible reasons pertaining to her father. But she's never had sex with someone she cared about, someone she has deep feelings for, someone like Logan.

Logan noticed her apprehension, sweeping a wild strand of hair from her face, "Are you ok?"

Her response was bringing his lips down to hers in a heated, deep kiss that sent chills down his spine. With a smirk, Logan pulled away as he grasped her hip to get better leverage.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear, giving it an affectionate nip as he slowly slipped himself inside her, groaning as her muscles clenched tightly over him. Carter winced, firmly gripping his shoulders, not at _all_ accustomed to that kind of pain but Logan knew this and was gentle.

Soon, though, the pain gave way to all sorts of new sensations, allowing Logan to be more aggressive and move at a faster pace. Carter wrapped her legs around his lower back, bringing him closer to her as she kissed him. He altered the angle of his hips, sinking into her even deeper eliciting long, loud moans from her mouth. He just wanted to please her, give her anything she wanted.

Logan surprised her when he suddenly rolled to the side, bringing her body over his. Her eyes widened slightly as she didn't quite know what to do but then his hands found her hips again and he guided her over his long, hard length. She gasped at this new pleasure, her body shaking as she leaned over him, pressing hard kisses to his lips. Her legs tightened against his sides, feeling the pull of another orgasm coming on and she brought her hips up only to slam them down over him again and again.

"Oh...God, Carter," Logan moaned, fingertips melting into her sides.

The tension built and built...it was so close and then suddenly...she came, the ecstasy taking over her entire body and her muscles pulling at Logan. Carter's moan, almost a scream, echoed around the room and Logan quickly and suddenly flipped her back over, pounding into her so violently until he felt himself come undone in an explosive fashion. His body shook as each wave of pleasure lessened until he pumped himself dry. For a moment he hovered over her, still sweetly pressing his lips against hers before he slid off the bed, quickly throwing away the used condom. Body shivering from the cold, he climbed under the blankets with Carter, seeking her warmth.

He hadn't even gotten settled when she was already curling up into his chest. He smiled with a contented sigh, circling both his arms around her warm body. Carter never thought she would be able to do something like that. She was always worried that she would freak out or remember the things from her childhood. But with Logan, none of that happened. She could just be with him and enjoy their shared moment. Carter had needed this. She felt like her past was resolved, like she could move on and enjoy life without having to fear every man she met.

For the first time since coming back from hell, Carter felt at peace.

* * *

The following morning a gentle pressure resting on Carter's legs woke her from slumber. Her eyes groggily fluttered opened and she found that the pressure was Logan, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking her legs through the blanket.

"Morning," he quietly spoke with a smile.  
"Morning," she shyly giggled, pulling the sheet over her body as she sat up.

Logan, she discovered upon closer examination, was already showered and dressed, even presenting her with a cup of coffee and small breakfast consisting of a hot bagel and scrambled eggs.

"Have I slept in _that_ late?" she wondered, looking down at all he accomplished before she even stirred.  
"I've never seen anyone sleep so soundly before," he chuckled, ripping off a piece of her bagel and popping it in his mouth, "It's nearly 10:30."

Carter's cheeks flushed light pink as she recognized why she was so tired. Logan knew too but only smiled and pressed his lips against hers. He barked out a laugh as he tried to pull away but was forcefully brought back. She beamed at him when she finally let him slide back and he just shook his head with a bemused smile.

"Eat then get dressed. I'll be downstairs," he ordered with a brief kiss to her cheek.

Carter had thought she wasn't hungry but as she took her first bite of eggs, she found that she was ravenous and made quick work of the plate. Stomach warm and full, she peeled back the blankets to the shower. As the water warmed, Carter caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It appeared to be a completely different girl than from when she first came back from hell. The girl in the mirror was confident, the scars of the past faded and almost non existent, her skin now returned to full glowing color, and her muscles—though marked by a few love marks—were smooth and defined. Much of this isn't a result of the previous evening but that's all it took for Carter to realize that she's a woman, not a girl anymore. With this thought, she felt invigorated with confidence. There was something different about her now, like she felt ready to face the world. She had survived much in her past and was bitter about it for the longest time. But now, a new sense of purpose and opportunity elated every sense and she finally felt _happy_.

"Hey," she greeted Logan with a kiss and wrapping her arms around him from behind.  
"Hey," he said back with a little less enthusiasm.

This didn't go unnoticed by Carter as she sat in the chair opposite him at the table. He was idly turning the rune over in his fingers, staring at it with a certain impassive look Carter couldn't quite place.

"What's wrong?" she frowned.

He heaved a great, long sigh as he set the stone down in the middle of the table.

"I suppose you're going to go with the Winchesters, now that this is all over," he softly spoke, his sad eyes gazing up at her.

_Oh_, Carter thought, her shoulders slumping. That option actually hadn't crossed her mind and she realized that she would have to, it was Castiel's order.

"I don't..._have_...anyone else," he slowly said, and the pain in his voice was hard to miss. Logan truly had nobody else in this world. Tania, his mom and dad...they were all gone. He really was alone in this world.

"Come with me," she suddenly said.  
"What?"  
"I want you to come with me. We could use your help with the seals," her hand reached out to his.

Logan smiled with another sigh, "If the angels had really wanted my help, don't you think I would've known about it?"

She frowned.

"I can't go with you," he shook his head, "Whatever they need you for, I'm not a part of it."  
"That's ridiculous, Logan!" she protested, "Just come with me. I want you to. The Winchester won't mind. I—"

He stopped her rant as he leaned over the table to kiss her.

"I'm not leaving forever," he chuckled, smoothly tucking her hair behind her ear, "I'll only be a phone call away."

Carter felt her cheeks flush with emotion and she fought hard against the threat of tears.

She knew she wasn't going to convince him.

"Promise?" she childishly asked, making him chuckle as his thumb swept across her cheek.  
"Of course."

Carter wiped her unshed tears from her eyes, taking the stone into her palm as she stood.

"Let's go destroy this stupid thing," she bitterly said, pulling Logan outside with her.

He watched as she set the little black stone on the ground and pulled out her pistol. Destroying the thing would kill every doppelganger still out there, meaning Carter would win the "race" and save the seal. Without any further hesitation, Carter aimed and pulled the trigger, the bullet shattering the stone into hundreds of tiny pieces.

It took a few moments after the stone was ruined, but Carter could feel her power stirring through her body. Her fingers tingled, her heart raced, and her mind was already more aware.

Then all at once...that nauseating feeling dread and despair overwhelmed her senses and the stench of hell engulfed her nostrils.

She didn't even have time to react before the demon in Logan smashed her against the side of the cabin, eyes black and taunting.

"Quite the show you put on, love," he drawled, voice now tilted with a foreign accent.  
"Reaver!" she snarled, recognizing the demon instantly.  
"Indeed," he grinned, eyes turning back to Logan's soft blue, "I must say I was a tad bit worried there for a while. I didn't know if I could _actually_ get you to do it."

"Do _what_!" she shrieked, struggling against the demon's power.  
"Break the seal, of course," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
"What are you talking about? I won! The stone is gone!" she confusedly shouted, fear stirring in her heart.  
"A regrettable loss, for sure, but that was not seal," he smirked, kicking at the pile of dust that was the stone.

Carter's stomach dropped as she tried breaking from the demon's grip.

"Y-you said...you said the race was the seal," she muttered, feeling the blood rush from her face.  
"Yes, but, love...I'm a demon," he sneered, "That was merely a ploy to get you to New Haven, to your dearest Tania, to lover-boy Logan...to _me_."  
"For what!" she yelled.

"And so it is written: the next seal shall fall when the one sacrificed becomes the one sacrificing as she willingly gives her purity to an agent of hell."

Her chest tightened, her mind reeled, and she fought back the urge to vomit as the weight of the demons words crashed into her like a sack of bricks.

"You, my dear, were the one who was sacrificed to break the initial seal. So it was _you_ who had to sacrifice your purity, to me," he grinned again, "Of course you would _never_ willingly give it to me so I had to get creative," he motioned to Logan's body.

"How long?" she cried, feeling the tears wet her cheeks.  
"Nearly the entire week," he mused, "Right after we made the deal. This sac of meat doesn't protect his body like you and your little tattoo."

Carter's body trembled as the emotion wracked her body.

She broke the seal.

When she thought she had slept with Logan, it was the demon the entire time.

_She_ broke the seal.

"Don't look so down, love. It was much better than you think!" he laughed and in that instant Carter felt his hold weaken as anger surged throughout her body. In a fit of rage she broke through his magic, reverting it back on to him as she sent him flying through the air.

"YOU SON OF A _BITCH_!" she roared, barreling him into the ground.

It was a confusing struggle. She didn't want to him too hard because she didn't want to hurt Logan. But the demon was scrambling and kicking her all over the grass. Then, in one brief second, he grabbed the gun and two shots echoed in the air.

"NO!"

Carter recoiled from Logan's body as the demon cruelly smirked at her, Logan's blood pouring from the wounds in his chest.

"Ta," the demon quipped, flying from Logan's mouth in a hazy cloud of black smoke.

"No," she choked as the last of the demon flew from Logan. Afraid to touch him, Carter hovered over his body, already having lost color from the loss of blood.

"Logan?" she barely said above a whisper.

With a sudden gasp of air Logan regained consciousness, uttering a painful cry. Carter jumped, instantly holding his face between her hands. He was struggling for breath, crimson liquid dribbling from the corner of his mouth. There were tears in his eyes as he gazed directly in Carter's.

"Car-ter," he uttered, more blood gurgling in his throat.

He was scared.

It was plain as day in his eyes.

He was afraid to die.

And he most certainly was going to.

"I'm here," she cried, sweeping his blonde hair out of his eyes.

His fingers feebly enclosed around her body.

"I...remember," he faintly said, desperately wanting to talk to her.

She understood immediately what he was talking about and more tears furiously replaced the old ones. His fingers melted into her sides, desperately trying to make her understand. His hand slid up to her face and she intertwined her fingers over his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, coughing up more blood.  
"Logan, no," she shook her head, pressing her lips down to his.

Even as she did, his hand limply fell from her face, and crashed into the soft grass beside his now-still body. She still kept her lips to his, giving him one last kiss. As she pulled away, the reality of this past week came searing through her mind in an agonizing sob.

She never should have come.

Tania was dead.

Logan was dead.

And _she_ broke a seal.

* * *

The boys had arrived at Bobby's earlier in the day. Carter had said that she would call Dean back but she never did and it was now two days later. Dean was out of it, from the loss of Adam or from not hearing from Carter, Sam didn't know. All he could do was sit inside with Bobby, waiting either for Carter to return or Dean to finally explode and go tearing off after her.

Nothing could describe the empty feeling burning a hole in Carter's heart as she paid the cab driver the fare from the airport to Bobby's. The week had been one of the worst she's had since coming back and all she wanted to do, oddly enough, is be with Dean. He had become normalcy for her and she just wanted to forget everything that happened.

"Carter!" Sam jumped to his feet as he saw the girl stroll into the kitchen and drop her bag, "Where have you been? Why haven't you called? What happened to you?" he asked a series of questions, noting her battered state.

She had been irritated and annoyed with Sam before she left, but her priorities had been adjusted. Instead of ignoring him, she walked straight to him and buried herself in his chest. He was a bit slow to return the embrace, not quite understanding it, but once he did he was more than happy to envelope the small girl in his large, tall frame.

She wasn't crying. She refused to cry anymore, and frankly she probably wouldn't be able to if she tried. But Sam could see something was wrong. He decided it was best to let it go as she turned from Sam to Bobby in an embrace.

"Are you alright?" Sam softly asked.  
"I'm just tired," she barely whispered, her voice tight and strained.

Sam nodded and looked to Bobby who noticed how out of it she seemed.

"Where's Dean?" she asked.  
"Out back," Bobby answered, pointing out to the back door.

Carter nodded with a sigh and offered them a weak smile as she headed out back. Idly sitting on the porch-swing with a bottle of beer in hand is how she found the elder Winchester. His foot rocked back and forth with the gentle sway of the swing as he simply gazed out at the bright moon in the sky.

She knew that Dean noticed her presence—the sound of her Converse shoes against the wood had hardly been stealthy—but he continued to stare out at the sky while she hovered near the door, just taking the in the sight of him for the first time in over a week.

"When did you get back?" he dully asked, eyes pointed to the sky.  
"'Bout ten minutes ago," she replied, just as quietly and softly as him as she slid next to him in the swing and curled her knees to her chest.

Neither was really in the mood to talk and they understood that about each other, relishing in content silence between them.

"What happened with your brother?" she whispered, letting her head roll to the side to be supported by the rusted chain.

"He's dead," Dean flatly answered, taking a large swig from his beer.  
"I'm sorry," she said as sincerely as possible in her quiet, almost child-like tone.

It explained why Dean was so absentminded. Very rarely had she seen him like this and it made her sad seeing him so stony.

Another silence.

Carter gave shudder when a brisk wind grazed against her skin.

"What about your friends?" it was his turn to ask.  
"They're dead," she answered just as heavily as he had.

Dean finally looked at her.

What he saw wrenched at his heart even if he wouldn't admit it. Carter was barely keeping it together. She was on an edge of grief he had only been at once when Sam had died. It was that nauseating empty feeling. The one when you pretend that everything is all right but deep inside is just a black hole, swallowing up everything good you ever felt.

That's where Carter was.

It also pained him to see how beat up she was, all the fresh bruises and cuts. The one just above her eyes probably the most gruesome. It didn't even look like it had been properly cleaned but she didn't even notice.

"Sorry, Carter," he offered a very sincere apology in those two shorts words in a way only Dean could.

She shuddered again and startled Dean when she shifted closer to him, embedding herself into his side, her head contentedly resting against his chest. It didn't take long for him to circle his arm around her shoulders and tug her close. He offered her his beer which she gladly accepted taking a large, depressed mouthful.

It had been a rough week.


	29. Chapter 28

**Where do I even **_**begin**_** to describe how busy I've been? I had intended to get this out sooner but my life took a stressful turn with schoolwork...my **_**sincerest**_** apologies for making you all wait so long!**

**Also, there's a poll in my profile for what you guys would like to see more of in this story so I would greatly appreciate it if you all went and voted. I know there are a lot of you out there...the e-mails prove it...so please help me out a little here!**

**One more note and I swear I'm done. What I'm going to do is cut this story off when I get to the end of Season 4 and start a sequel. It's starting to get long as it is and if I included **_**all**_** of Season 5 it would just be too long.**

**Ok, onward to the story! **

* * *

Only a few weeks had passed since the events at New Haven but Carter felt like she was finally getting back to some normalcy. There were, of course, the times when she was left alone and the guilt weighed heavily in her heart. For the most part, though, Sam and Dean kept her out of dark depression.

In that respect, things were going well. The bitter tension between Carter and Dean was now nothing but a little rivalry and petty insults that were all in good fun. The trio was like a well-oiled machine when it came to hunting. They knew each other's ins and outs and knew when to back off or step in. In only two weeks they've taken down a werewolf, a small nest of vampires and even saved a seal. All without the help of the angels, a fact Dean was becoming increasingly bitter about after all they've done. Carter was firmly on that bandwagon, too, her former reverence for Cas not nearly what it used to be.

Before stepping out of the shower, Carter let the hot, steaming water beat down on the tense muscles in her shoulders. Their vigorous and unyielding hunting spree was finally catching up to the small girl and she longed for a few days off.

Sam had been the one mostly responsible for their sudden intensity. He was out for blood, more so than he usually was and he was relentless. It was slightly startling to Carter who had only known Sam as the gentler, more compassionate Winchester. The change had not gone unnoticed to Dean either, but he seemed less concerned about it and even _encouraged_ his younger brother at times, a notion that made Carter frown every time.

"You out of the shower yet? We're back!" Dean pounded on the bathroom door with a heavy fist just as Carter shut the water off.  
"Gimme a sec!" she called back, ringing out her hair into the tub and wrapping a towel around her body.

The trio was in Louisiana, investigating a sudden spike in people seeing their loved ones who perished in Hurricane Katrina. Reports say that after they saw these "ghosts" the victims were brutally murdered; leading the hunter's to believe it was a seal. However, it turned out to be a misguided Hoodoo Priest. No sooner had they stopped the man—a well-placed shot from Sam—when Dean declared is ravenous hunger. Carter decided to skip out in favor a shower while Sam told her they would bring something back.

"Who ordered for me?" she asked, strolling out into the main room in nothing but her towel. Dean all but choked on the mouthful of fries he was munching on as his eyes fell on her bare, slick skin. Carter may be short but her legs were the longest part of her body and were scantily covered by the meager hotel towel.

"I did," Sam answered, handing her a wrap.  
"Awesome," she grinned, "I won't have to force down another double-bacon whatever smothered in butter and fried onions."  
"You said you like those!" Dean frowned.  
"Yeah but not every day of the week, Dean," she shook her head, "I think I'm starting to sweat grease."

The two men chuckled as she sat on the end of her bed eating her California Club Wrap.

"You planning on changing any time soon?" Sam asked.  
"When I'm done eating," she said through a mouthful making Dean chuckle again.  
"Then I'm taking a shower," he disappeared into the bathroom.

Pretending that he was watching TV, Dean risked several glances at the girl in the tiny towel, happily munching on her food and watching The Office—her favorite show. A few weeks ago Carter would _not_ have sat in plain sight in front of him like this in nothing but a towel. It was one of the small things Dean noticed after she came back from New Haven. The first was how much she smiles these days. It was rare to _not_ see her smiling. With the smiles came laughter and not that snarky little laugh that used to get under his skin. Her laugh was genuine, smooth, and made her eyes light up in a way that he had never seen before.

Then there were the delicate things. The things Dean only recognized because he was trained to be an observant hunter. The way she wore more makeup, or dressed to reveal more cleavage or the shape of her lean body. Most surprising was the way she easily conversed with complete strangers at the bars they were at, picking up a few numbers, even though she never intended to call back.

_"...If I had a gun with two bullets and I was in a room with Hitler, Bin Laden, and Toby, I would shoot Toby twice!"_

"I fucking hate Michael. He's such an _ass_," Carter disgustedly shook her head, gingerly massaging her sore shoulders.

"What's wrong with your shoulders?" Dean asked, noticing her wince.  
"Wha?" she looked at him, not even aware she was showing signs of pain, "Oh. They're just a little tense. Too much hunting, I guess."  
"Oh," he nodded, redirecting his eyes back to the screen.  
"Come over here and do this for me," she waved him over, not thinking anything of it.  
"You want me to give you a massage?" he furrowed his eyebrow with a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah? It's not like I'm asking you to make-out," she gave him a funny look as he crawled behind her on the bed.  
"You sure we can't do that after I'm done?" he grinned making her laugh.  
"No thanks, Lancelot."

Dean still grinned even though he was shot down. The way she called him Lancelot was different. It wasn't dripping with sarcasm and Dean liked the way it fell on her lips.

He began on her neck, the pads of his fingers making gentle circles in her skin and spurring goose bumps all down her arms. Once she got used to his touch, he slid his hands down the base of her neck to her shoulders where his thumbs pressed deeply into the knots in her muscles.

"You weren't kidding," he commented, working out the tightly wrapped kinks.  
"I...know," she spoke between her gritted teeth. Dean would work intensely for thirty seconds or so, embedding his thumb deeply in the knots but then release the pressure and go back to gentle circles. He repeated this pattern until he felt her muscles loosen.

Just when Carter thought he was done, she felt the soft strokes of his fingertips between her shoulder blades and then back up her neck. The lightness of it was terribly distracting and Carter found herself focusing on what he would do next instead of the TV. They dragged down the skin of her arms all the way down to her hands where they traced delicate patterns to her own fingertips. Dean's body heat pressed pleasantly against her back and his steady breath flushed against the bare of her neck. His fingers blazed a trail back up her arms where his hands left her body.

"It still hasn't faded," he spoke, his fingertips edging the pearly hand print on her back. Carter's stomach flipped over and over again as Dean splayed his full hand out over the scar left by Cas.

When Sam stumbled from the bathroom, Dean's hand recoiled from Carter so fast she didn't understand what was going on until she saw Sam's curious stare.

"Took you long enough," she chided, gathering a bundle of clothes in her arms and vanishing in the bathroom.

"Did I miss something?" he frowned.  
"No. She wants to go out," Dean recovered, tugging his t-shirt over his head to pull on some clean clothes, while Sam stepped outside.

Carter came back out from the bathroom donning a pair of skinny jeans and a striped pullover that revealed the white camisole underneath.

"Where'd Sam go?" she asked, toweling her hair.  
"Where going out," Dean replied pulling a maroon Henley over his head.  
"Oh," Carter frowned, feeling her shoulders slump.  
"You don't want to?" he surprisingly asked, not missing her sudden dejection.  
"I'm just..._tired_," she emphasized, flopping face-down onto his bed to nuzzle her face into the pillow.

The silliness of it made Dean chuckle. Carter rolled onto her back at the noise and watched him drop his jeans to slip on a darker, clean pair. Her eyes traveled the length of his legs, starting from his feet up to his waist, where they lingered on the elastic band biting into his skin and then they travelled lower...

"Enjoying the view?" Dean quipped with a smirk, zipping and buttoning the jeans.  
"Well...you were right there," she shot back with a smirk of her own.

Her honesty made him laugh and shake his head. Carter _never_ would have admitted something like that before and Dean knew this.

"What's up with you lately?" he asked, sitting on the end of the bed.  
"What do you mean?" she bounded from the bed with a graceful leap to go fix her makeup.  
"I mean," Dean stood, moving behind her as she put on her eyeliner with a quick flourish, "You've changed. Ever since you came back from New Haven you're like a completely different person...don't get me wrong, I _love_ the new Carter," he gestured to her figure, "I just want to know what happened."

Carter unsurely coated her mascara brush a few times while she formulated an answer in her head, Dean expectantly watching her through the mirror.

After she met back up with them, she told them about the seal being broken, just not _how_ it was broken. She wasn't even sure how they would react if she told them that it was her fault, that she had to _sleep_ with a _demon_ to do it.

"Carter," Dean nudged her after she hadn't said anything.  
"Nothing happened," she shrugged her shoulders, avoiding his gaze through the glass.

Dean wasn't fooled.

"Really? You're sure about that?" he folded his large arms across his chest, staring her down. His incessant gaze was too much to bear and she let out a frustrated sigh, stuffing her makeup back into her bag.

"You're either going to laugh, yell, or hit me. Or some combination of the three," she collapsed back onto the bed, "I'd rather not face the 'wrath of Dean.'"  
"Wrath of Dean?" he mused with a grin, "Am I really that intimidating?"  
"Very. You scare me," she drawled.  
"Seriously, Carter. What happened in New Haven?" Dean frowned.

Carter heaved another sigh. Dean was not going to let her out of this and he was beginning to get on her nerves. Logan was killed only two weeks ago and if she talked about it, she didn't know if she could pull herself out of the grief.

"Be good tonight and maybe I'll tell you," she teased, drumming her fingers up his chest.

It was scary how much Dean rubbed off on her. It was as plain as day to him. She was using humor and sex appeal to cover her depression and Dean knew Carter wouldn't back down easily...or quietly.

"Whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone," Dean placed a hand on her shoulder. Carter's eyes met his hazel-green gaze and for a moment she almost caved, seeing something stir in those pretty eyes of his.

"Who said I'm going through anything?" she shook her head, her voice much quieter and less taunting.  
"Come on, baby, don't be like that. Talk to me," his hand drifted down her arm.

She quirked an eyebrow at him with an amused grin.

"You just called me baby," she widened her smile.  
"What?"  
"Yeah," she laughed, "You said 'Come on, baby, don't be like that.'"  
"No I didn't," he shook his head, though, realizing that he did indeed call her that, "Stop trying to change the subject."

She only threw her head back in laughter singing, "Baby, baby, baby oooh! Like baby, baby, baby oooh!"

Sam returned mid-lyric and questioningly glanced between the dancing Carter and the flaming-red Dean.

"What's going on?" he suppressed a laugh at the girl.  
"I'm Dean's baby," Carter beamed, sliding past Sam out the door.

* * *

Ampersand.

One of Carter's best ideas, Dean had to admit.

There was a niche for all three of them to do their own thing. Carter had taken instantly to the dance floor, leaving Sam to take to the courtyard and Dean to sidle up to the bar.

Strobe lights, lasers, black lights, booze, women, music so loud Dean couldn't even hear the woman he was talking to.

Not that it mattered.

Though, in hindsight, he would've tried harder because when he kept staring at her chest she threw her dirty martini in his face. Scowling, he wiped the gin from his face.

_Strike two for the night_, he bitterly ordered a double shot of 1800, _I wonder how Sammy is fairing._

Just when he was about to stroll out to the courtyard to find out, a smooth sound filled his ears, stopping him in his tracks. It was a soft sound. Mellow, but full of delight. Dean recognized it immediately as Carter's laugh. Eyes carefully scanning the dance floor, he found her, grinding up against a total bro...at least in Dean's opinion. Her body was swaying to the tempo of the euro-pop bumping through the speakers, her hips rolling and shaking in a way that made Dean bite his lower lip in contemplation.

Then he choked on his shot, sputtering the clear liquid from his mouth when he saw her macking on the guy. Instinct brought him hotly to his feet, ready to charge over there and deck the douche square in the jaw.

But she laughed again.

She _wanted_ him to kiss her and let him do it again.

Still feeling all hot and bothered by the sight, Dean settled back into the bar with another two shots. Two more down and he still couldn't get the image from his mind. He tried schmoozing a sexy blonde next to him but struck out yet again, giving Sam a bitter smile as he passed with a fiery red-head on his arm. As he walked by, Dean caught sight of Carter with _another_ guy.

Why had he reacted so vehemently when he saw her? Carter's perfectly free to hook up with whoever she pleases...

_Has Carter even hooked up before_? Dean wondered.

"Why are you being so _boring_?" Carter was suddenly next to him. Her perfume mixed with the sour smell of alcohol invaded his nostrils but he hardly cared. And he instantly noticed she was alone, neither of her dance partners with her.

"You seem to be having enough fun for the both of us," Dean commented, forcing down a burp.  
"Hark! Is that _jealousy_ I hear, Dean Winchester?" she grinned, bumping him with her shoulder.  
"Absolutely not," he slapped the bar for emphasis.  
"Whatever you say, _Lancelot_," she cooed in his ear, sliding from her stool.

But she stopped.

She stopped so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.

"Todd."

Even above the roar of the music, Todd Augustine heard his sister's voice and turned away from his dance partner with a surprised look. Clearly he wasn't tracking them as was just as shocked to see Carter as she was to see him.

"Well. If it isn't my dear baby sis!" he latched an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to meet his girl. Carter visibly cringed under his touch as he brought her from Dean's line of sight.

"Holly, this is my sister Carter. You know the one I've been telling you about? Carter, this is Holly. We've teamed up," he wickedly explained.  
"So _you're_ Carter? Boy the things I've heard about you..." she insinuated.  
"You could _never_ presume to know me," Carter snarled.

So Todd had brought in an outsider, someone he could easily manipulate for his own purposes. Carter would feel badly for the girl if she wasn't such a dumbass.

"I've heard enough from your brother to know," she smirked.

Carter glanced between the two older hunter's, their bodies boxing her against the wall. Subtly she slipped her hand into her pocket, hitting Dean's speed dial. Todd placed his hand on the wall above Carter's head as he winked at a passing couple.

_"Carter?"_ she heard Dean's voice.

"You wouldn't dare try anything with all these people around, Todd," she loudly spoke despite the fact that the music was between songs while the DJ went on break.

"You're so loud, baby sis," Todd hushed her with a clever glance at Holly, "So where are your big bad protectors?"  
"Around," Carter sneered, still hearing Dean's voice coming from her phone but it was beginning to become inaudible.  
"Really? Last I heard you were flying solo. Or _were_ after you got Logan and Tania killed," he taunted.  
"Shut up!" Carter yelled, moving to shove him but was forced back by Holly.  
"Easy there. We don't want to make a scene," she chirped in Carter's ear.

"Then I suggest you back off," Dean harshly spun the woman away from Carter while Sam stood between her and Todd.

Dean's voice was like a gift from God as relief washed over Carter in a tidal wave.

"Ah, the Winchesters! Brooding as ever," Todd shook his head with smirk.  
"Come on, Carter," Dean held his hand out for her, the fear that was coursing through her manifesting in her tight grip.  
"Where are you going! Come on! We're just having fun!" Todd shouted to the three as they ignored his heckling and went out to the car.

Two weeks of suppressed emotion was on the verge of collapse as Carter gripped the leather of her seat in the Impala. Her breath was shallow, her gaze unfocused. Truthfully, it scared Dean and he was probably glancing in his rearview mirror more than he was watching the road. He didn't even get the car into park before she bolted from the vehicle and into the room.

"Call Bobby," Dean told his brother, following the frantic girl.

He found her scrambling all around the room, throwing anything and everything into her duffel. Her cheeks were stained with tears and flushed a light pink color while she rambled incoherently to herself.

"Carter—"  
"Wehavetogo. Wehavetogetoutofhere," she muttered.  
"You're drunk, Carter. Calm down," Dean pulled the hotel Bible from her hands.  
"No! Todd he's...he's gonna follow! We have to leave now, Dean!" she tried ripping the Bible back, "Let go!"

"Carter! Stop it!" Dean yelled back, throwing the Bible across the room, forcing the girl into his chest. She struggled against him for a few seconds before finally giving in, everything crashing down around her. Dean heard sob after painful sob wrack her small body as she cried into his shirt.

Todd brought up everything Carter tried to forget in the past two weeks. Her deranged father, abusive past, Tania's death, Logan's death, the seal she broke. It was all connected in some weird twisted way and being inhibited by vast amounts of alcohol, the emotions were dialed up times ten.

Sam walked in on her episode and swapped sad looks with Dean before leaving again. He had come to terms with the fact that Carter opened up to Dean now instead of him. To be honest, he's glad for it. He's got other things on his mind lately...

"Sit. Ok?" Dean placed her on the bed, making sure she was all right before correctly repacking her bag for her. Watching him calmly pack her things, Carter chewed on her lower lip, fighting back another onslaught of tears.

"Is there anything else?" Dean asked coming from the bathroom with all their toiletries.  
"No," she quietly whispered with a small shake of her head.  
"Are you going to be ok?" Dean kneeled in front of her.

He watched the tears brim her eyes and expected another episode.

"I broke the seal," she suddenly admitted, sadly blinking away the tears.

He didn't understand her at first, disregarding it another one of her drunken rants.

"In New Haven," she sighed, dropping her gaze to her wringing hands, "The seal didn't just break..._I_ was the one who broke it."

Dean frowned, standing up straight. Carter took this as anger and was quick to explain.

"I-I didn't mean t-to. I should've called you the moment something was up. You could've stopped it. Stopped them from being killed," she buried her face in her hands, feeling her face warm with shame.

"What happened?" Dean asked, the frown still firmly set on his face.  
"There was this demon," she agonizingly brought her hands from her face, "He brought Logan and Tania to New Haven and made up a seal so that they would call me. It was a trap the entire time and I should've known."

"What did he want?" Dean tried to ignore her mounting cries.

"Logan was my boyfriend," she admitted, "He was with me...when the hellhounds came...I...I think I loved him...I _did_ love him."

Love?

The word coming from her sounded so strange. He wondered how such a small girl could feel something so strong.

"The demon used him...to get to me," she wept, "To get me to-to..."

She buried her face again, the warm, salty tears seeping through the cracks in her fingers.

"I loved him. I wanted to do it. I thought it was the right thing...in case I never saw him again," she sobbed.  
"Carter—"  
"I slept with him! Ok? But it wasn't even Logan! It was that fucking demon! _He's_ who I slept with! Not Logan! The son of a bitch was possessing him the _whole time_! And then...and then the bastard shot Logan! Shot him and then dumped him! He killed him!" she fell into heart-wrenching sobs, her body trembling violently. Carter felt like she had been punched in the stomach, the pit growing and growing until she felt the back of her throat begin to burn.

"I'm going to be sick," she suddenly flew into the bathroom, retching into the toilet. In all likelihood it was probably from the vast amounts of alcohol she had consumed. But part of her wanted to believe she was purging herself of all the restrained emotion she's felt the past two weeks. Dean now knew what happened and he hadn't reacted negatively. Some small part of Carter felt relieved and felt like maybe...just _maybe_ it wasn't all her fault.

She felt her hair being gently pulled back and tied up into a pony-tail as Dean eased her onto the tile of the floor.

"You put way too much pressure on yourself, Carter. You don't have to do everything on your own," he soothingly rubbed her back. His words painfully reminded her of Logan when he said the very same thing to her.

"I should've known," she hiccupped, leaning into his body.  
"There's no way you would've seen that coming. The demons are clever bastards...and sometimes they get the best of us. All we can do is move on and kill the next son of a bitch who gets in our way," he said, holding her to him while she continued to cry.

Her confession explained a lot.

But it didn't make Dean feel better.

In fact, it made him feel worse...so much worse.

All because he couldn't stand to see Carter so miserable.


	30. Chapter 29

**I don't have too much to say here but thanks to everyone who has stuck with me, particularly MrsMercer and Angelyn who have reviewed! Your comments make my muse happy and they make it easier to post the next chapter so thank you so much!**

**We've only a got few chapters left (I think) until I cut off this story and start a sequel so please bear with me until then! **

* * *

"So we've got a phantom attacker in Irvine, a possible haunt in Inglewood, a werewolf, _maybe_, in Costa Mesa...I don't know, the lunar cycle seems off..." Sam rattled off possible cases but Carter was hardly paying attention. Her breakfast sat in front of her, uneaten and scattered across her plate as she idly picked at it with her fork.

In the days after the encounter with Todd in New Orleans she's shut herself away in a shell, barely talking, sleeping or eating. Sam insisted that they keep hunting to keep her mind off things but it only wore her down even more.

"How is everything?"

The waitress' voice drew Carter's attention—or what little of it—away from Sam and to the counter. The question hadn't been directed at Sam _or_ Carter, though _they_ had been the ones who were eating. It was directed at Dean who had gone to the bathroom but was side-tracked by the curvaceous waitress. A frown scrunched her face as she watched the dim girl puff out her chest and twirl her hair around her finger for Dean. And Dean loved it, he was all over her and before Carter knew it, the girl was jotting down her number.

Something surged through Carter's veins as she watched the girl throw her head back in a giddy laugh. It bugged her seeing Dean flirting with another woman...but why? Just why in the _hell_ does Carter care? She never cared before so why start now?

When Dean turned to come back to the table, Carter immediately dropped her gaze to her cold food, continuing to slosh it around.

"What do you think? Carter?" she suddenly looked up at Sam realizing that he's been talking to her the entire time, "Were you even listening?"

She just gave him a blank stare, feeling Dean slide in next to her in the booth, his arm draping around the back of the booth and effectively around her shoulders. It was all-too difficult for Carter to ignore how close he was to her; there was literally no space between the two as his leg was touching hers and she was practically leaning into him. It wasn't abnormal for him to sit next to her so close but for some reason it was all she could think about.

Sam let out an annoyed sigh, "Look. The two of you need to start focusing. I'm tired of being the only vigilant one."

"Take it easy, Sam. We've been hunting non-stop the past month," Dean headed off his brother's developing monologue. Seeing that Dean wasn't going to budge, Sam threw down the newspapers and left the diner in a huff.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean swiped a piece of bacon from Carter's plate.

"You should really start eating," he pointed at her food with the bacon strip in his hand.  
"I'm not hungry," she pushed it away from her, massaging her temples as a headache began to form.

Dean sighed, dropping some money on the table as he stood, "Come on. We better follow Sam or who knows where he'll run off to."

Carter grabbed his outstretched hand and he helped her from the booth. With each step, though, her headache intensified, spots beginning to float before her eyes and each breath became more painful.

Another episode.

She knew it right away.

"Dean..." she stumbled forward, grasping for his jacket.  
"Carter? Whoa, Carter!...Carter...carter," his voice fell away into silence as she slipped out of consciousness.

* * *

_"How long have you been here?" the man who was Dean Winchester asked.  
__"I don't remember," Carter shook her head, leaning back against the wall, not caring that it burned the skin on her back, "I was fifteen in the year... 2003...so what year is it now?"  
__"2008...five years," Dean let out a low whistle.  
__"No," she shook her head, "More like hundreds."_

_She pointed to the tick marks that were etched into the wall behind him. There was one mark for every day for at least ten years. After that she stopped keeping track. Dean looked at them and swallowed the lump in his throat. The two prisoners tensed as the door slowly creaked open on its hinges, expecting the demons to storm into the cell and drag them to the rack. When they didn't, Carter pulled herself to her feet._

_"Come on," she held out her hand for Dean.  
__"What are you insane?" he hissed, "We can't go out there!"  
__"It's okay. Trust me," she reassured him._

_He shot a wary glance to the door and back at the girl in rags standing in front of him before firmly grasping her calloused hand. _

_"Stay quiet and just follow me," she whispered, pulling him from the cell. _

_Screams upon horrific screams bombarded the pair's eardrums and it was enough to send Dean crashing to his knees in terror. Not as affected, Carter pulled him up again and into the dancing shadows created by the dangerous bursts of flames. With some struggle, Carter brought the man away from the tortures and demons and sorry saps who were the victims. The screams began to fade and were eventually non-existent as they reached a stony, steep, staircase._

_"Where are we?" Dean curiously asked, seeing that Carter took up an easy pace.  
__"We're in the outer eighth circle away from all the guardians," she answered starting to ascend the stone steps.  
__"How do you know they won't come looking for us?" he asked, trailing up after her.  
__"As long as we're back in time for...our next _session_," she grimaced, "They'll keep opening that door. They do it to everyone, thinking nobody in their right mind would venture out...like a scare tactic. I did one day for the hell of it and wandered far enough until I didn't hear any screams. It gives me hope, y'know?" she helped him onto the ledge she had reached._

_When he stood, Dean was staring at a wall of incomprehensible symbols and drawings all etched into the stone._

_"What is that stuff?" he frowned, seeing her intently staring at it almost as if she were reading it.  
__"I think it's Enochian," she replied, walking farther down the wall.  
__"What the hell is e...ecnochian," he struggled to say the word._

_"Enochian," she pronounced it again, "It's the language of angels. Some demons down here speak it occasionally and I've been able to pick some of it up."  
__"Angels?" he disbelievingly snorted, "There's no such thing."  
__"That's what I thought, too," she turned to him, "But look."_

_Carter pulled him to a different section of wall, one covered in intricate pictures detailing what appeared to be a battle. The closer Dean examined the etchings, he realized that it was angels that were the soldiers and they were in Heaven. It was the Great War in Heaven, the one that Lucifer and his army were banished into the pit. The drawings detailed every stage of the war with Enochian captions. _

_"From what I can tell, Lucifer was locked in a special cage...and the rest were locked in their own palace called Pandemonium. It's at the center of a lake of fire that gives off darkness, not light. I've been looking for it whenever I come out here," she sighed. _

_"Why would you do that?" he strangely asked.  
__"Because they want redemption," she moved off to the side a bit next to some Enochian script, "They feel remorse at following Lucifer and want to return to Heaven. I thought maybe if I helped free them they would bring me back." _

_Dean slowly nodded in understanding, looking back at the wall._

_"What else can you read?"  
__"Not much," she shook her head, "I know that these two are spells," she pointed to a couple lines at the top, "One of them grants humans with the ability to feel the supernatural...the other, I'm not quite sure, but it might give souls the ability to sense angels. I don't know what the last half means so I could be completely off."_

_"Have you tried any of them?" he wondered.  
__"The demon one, yeah. But I didn't feel any different," she shook her head.  
__"Maybe you have to be alive," he lamented with a sigh.  
__"Maybe..." she quietly agreed. _

* * *

Carter woke in a cold sweat, bolting up right and rolling off the bed into a fighter's crouch. She felt a hand fall on her shoulder and in one swift movement she threw whoever it was behind her over her shoulder and pinned him to the ground.

"Jesus, Carter, it's me!" Dean shouted, taken by surprise at her attack.

Hell flashed before her eyes and she saw Hell-Dean beneath her before she shook her head and came back to reality, seeing the real Dean.

"Dean?" she blinked, getting acclimated around their hotel room surroundings, "Sorry."

Dean carefully pushed her off his chest and sat up, her body still pinning his lower half down. She was way out of it, he saw, something burning in her dark blue eyes.

"You had another episode, didn't you?" he questioned, "A memory from hell?"  
"Yeah," she nodded, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead, "Apparently I'm twenty-one...not nineteen."  
"How do you suddenly age two years?" Dean distractedly asked.  
"Todd messed up the years...I was twenty when Cas brought me back and my birthday was a few weeks ago," she briefly explained.  
"Well...that makes me feel less like a pedophile then," he lightly joked and Carter looked down at the way she was straddling hips.

Despite the situation, she breathed a sheepish laugh, dismounting Dean as a deep blush warmed her cheeks. Awkwardly clearing his throat, Dean pushed himself to his feet as well, composing himself as he raked his short brown hair between his fingers.

"What else did you see?" he changed the subject.  
"I uh...think I can read Ecnochian," she frowned, trying to remember the symbols. One of them she recognized as one from Ohio. The one that was in her desk drawer and she realized that it was a symbol to keep away angels, "And I know how I got my power."

"Care to elaborate?" he pressed.  
"It was a spell. I brought you with me to the outer circle to show you—"

"What else did you see?"

Carter and Dean jumped at the sound of Castiel's voice suddenly in the doorway.

"Knock much?" Carter frowned.  
"Tell me what you saw. How long have you been having these memories?" he sternly asked.

Neither Carter nor Dean liked his tone. It was almost panicked, like she shouldn't be remembering things from Hell. She looked to Dean for help and he subtly shook his head, telling her not to reveal her full vision to him.

"Dean and I were talking. They let us out so we went to the outer circle to...to get to know each other," she lied, slightly squirming under Cas' hard stare, "They've all been about me and Dean. When we met and how we became friends in the pit."

Castiel slowly nodded, not sure if he should believe the girl or not. He determined that it was safe to do so since she's never lied to him before.

"Listen to me very carefully, Carter, if you remember anything else, you let me know immediately," he cautiously glanced up to the ceiling, as if someone might be watching him, "It isn't safe."

Carter exchanged worried looks with Dean, her eyes wide with uncertainty. But she nodded nonetheless and this seemed to satisfy the angel. He turned to Dean next.

"Keep an eye on her. There's something bigger going on in Heaven...the angels are beginning to turn on Carter," he admitted.  
"I thought she was supposed to show me how to stop the apocalypse," Dean confusedly shook his head.  
"That's what I thought as well," he breathed a sigh, "Something is not right. I will get to the bottom of it."

Without another word, he vanished.

Carter didn't know whether to be pissed or scared at this new information. What if the angels figured out they really _don't_ need her to stop the apocalypse? Would they send her back to hell? Her stomach churned at the thought, deeply exhaling as her fingers played with ends of her hair.

"I am so confused," she shook her head, not knowing what else to say.  
"You're telling me," Dean stiffly agreed, blowing past her for the fridge where he grabbed two beers, offering one to her, "Hey, you can legally have one of these," he grinned.

"Quiet, fool," she retorted, using the desk as a bottle-opener and chugging the cold amber liquid.  
"There's more to it, isn't there?" he asked in a hushed voice as he stood right in front of her.  
"Yeah," she nodded, "A spell in Enochian gave me my powers. I must've said it in hell but it didn't work until Cas brought me back here. And there's another one...one that's similar to the demon one but for angels."

Both were thinking it but neither wanted to say it. That spell could mean disaster for the angels if someone were to use it and it might very well be the reason the angels are flipping on Carter.

"There's more," she continued, "There's another cage in hell. Not just Lucifer's. Pandemonium."  
"Pandemonium?" his features twisted in confusion, "The thing from Paradise Lost?"  
"I have no idea," she shook her head, gulping down another swig, "But there's a whole _army_ of angels down there."

The information Carter had remembered seemed like it would be important, but neither hunter could figure out how it fit into the apocalypse or the seals. None of it made any sense.

"Where's Sam?" Carter asked, finally noticing the younger Winchester's absence.  
"Beat's me," Dean rolled his eyes, putting the bottle to his lips, "On to a different matter...your birthday was a few weeks ago?"  
"You're _still_ hung up on that?" she furrowed her eyebrow.  
"Why didn't you say anything!" he laughed, "Me and Sam could've gotten you something."

She snorted, finishing off her beer, "Like what? A new machete perhaps? Or ammo? That's hardly what a girl wants for her twenty-first."

"Well...you're not like most girls, Barbie," he pointed out, finishing the last of his beer as well, "What _would_ you have wanted anyway?"

Carter tapped her lips with her index finger in contemplation. What _would_ she have wanted...realistically speaking anyway.

"I don't know...some sexy lingerie maybe?" she shrugged her shoulders. Dean just gaped at her for a few seconds before suddenly tugging at her wrist, pulling her to the door.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.  
"We're going to the store," he decided.  
"For what?" she smiled, "You're not going to be seeing my underwear anytime soon."  
"With as often as you change in front of me...we're buying you something sexy," he seriously told her. Carter only laughed, struggling against his firm hold around her wrist. He wouldn't let go, however, a playful smirk set on his lips as she wiggled and wiggled around trying to escape. At one point his hand fell on her side and she let out a shriek from being inadvertently tickled.

"What was _that?_" he barked out a laugh.  
"You tickled me!" she accused, sharply backing away.  
"Did I now?" he furrowed an eyebrow, slowly taking a few steps toward her.

Carter's eyes widened at the glint moving about in his hazel-green eyes and she began backing away, her hands protectively out in front of her.

"Don't you _dare_," she warned, her back coming in contact with the wall.  
"Do what?" he feigned innocence, suddenly lunging at her and drumming his fingers all up and down her sides. Her shrieks echoed all around the room and in turn made him laugh as she tried to get away.

Dean didn't know what it was about Carter that brought the child out in him but she did. And he liked that about her. He didn't feel stupid about it because he knew the next second she could be just as tough as any guy and save his ass on a hunt. For now, though, she was at his mercy.

"DEAN!" she screamed, falling onto the bed, trying to get her feet between her and his chest, "Stopstopstop! Can't! _Breathe_!"

They rolled with a thud to the floor, Dean easily pinning her down as he stopped tormenting her. Her chest heaved up and down, gulping in as much air as possible, as her legs were squeezed around his waist in case he tried to start up again.

"I...give...up," she panted, not relaxing her arms that were forced against the floor under his hands.  
"What? I can't understand you? It sounded like you said you want to be tickled more?"  
"No! God, no!"  
"Yes?" he teased.  
"NO!"  
"Ok, if you say so," he broke through her leg-hold, squeezing her sides again. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her sides were beginning to burn.

"Dean!" she cried, struggling with him some more until she forced his shoulders back and rolled violently over his body so that she had him pinned, her face inches from his.

"I said _stop_," she breathed, with a slight smirk at his shocked look.

His mouth slightly hung open as he tried to catch his breath from their brief wrestling match and his eyes were fixated on her lips. Her knees were pushed painfully into his legs and when he tried to move she pushed down on him harder, afraid he would try to tickle her again. But he winced, easily overpowering her small body once more as he settled between her legs.

She yelped at the sudden switch in control, one hand pressed to his chest, the other sinking into his back. Then her eyes connected with his and something in his look made her stomach tingle. Dean brought the hand against his chest up, placing it on his other shoulder before sweeping the stray locks of hair from her face. She was still breathing hard, but something told her it wasn't from being tickled.

Her fingers edged into his soft brown hair as his lips came crashing down on hers in an intense kiss. Dean swept his hand down along the soft curves of her body, his tongue licking at the seam of her lips. When Carter parted her lips, her tongue met his in a frenzied rush and she was slightly self-conscious, instantly recognizing how much more experienced Dean was than her. But he didn't seem to mind, his tongue hungrily exploring her mouth, his hips ever-so lightly brushing hers, making her moan into his mouth. Her hands brought him closer to her, trying to keep the feeling between her legs as Dean continued to feverishly kiss her.

All of a sudden everything came rushing down on her and she realized what she was doing, abruptly breaking off and throwing him off of her.

"What was that, Dean!" she leapt to her feet, frantically running her fingers through her hair.  
"Whoa, whoa time out! You were the one making noises!" he shot back, the two of them falling silent as the door opened, Sam casually strolling in. The silence hit him like a sack of bricks and he glanced between the two who were at complete opposite sides of the room.

"What's going on here?" he slowly asked, dropping the keys down on the table.  
"Nothing. We...uh..." Carter looked to Dean for help.  
"We were going to come find you," Dean looked from Carter to Sam, "Where were you anyway?"  
"Oh I was getting a bite to eat," he answered, scratching the back of his head, "I'm gonna hit the shower."

It was clear Sam wanted to get out of the obvious tension between the other two and ducked into the bathroom before either of them could say anything else. Carter waited until she heard the water running before stomping over to Dean and slapping him in the arm.

"Ow!" he chuckled, rubbing his arm.  
"_Don't_ do that again!" she hissed.  
"What?" he smirked, "Afraid you might like it again?"  
"I did not..._like_ it," she stuttered, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"You sound so convincing," he sniggered, moving past her, tugging off his t-shirt to only enflame her cheeks even more.  
"You're a freakin' jerk," she scowled.

Dean was all too amused—and pleased—with himself. _He_ made Carter go weak in the knees. Not Logan, not some random dude at the club..._him_. And he knew she enjoyed it just as much as he did, that much is obvious. Granted, he wished she hadn't reacted in such a repulsive way but still...he had gotten somewhere with her.

And now the floodgates were open.

* * *

**Eh...not really my best work. I'm kind of working through a writer's block at this point before we get to the finale. Anyway, I hoped you all enjoyed it!**


	31. Chapter 30

**I just can't catch a break in my schedule! Fortunetaly enough, I found some time to post this...albeit a few days later than I planned...**

**In other news, check out the lovely banner MrsMercer made for this story! It's in my profile underneath Damon's picture!**

**Keep on keeping on, readers.**

* * *

"I just want to sleep for _years_!" Carter whined, stumbling into the motel room behind Dean.  
"It's my turn for the bed," he pouted, watching her fall face-first onto the mattress.  
"Too bad. Already here," she spoke into the pillow.

Sam chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom while the two argued over who would get the bed.

"We could share," Dean insinuated, trying to slide next to her but was abruptly pushed off.  
"You take up too much room," she giggled as he scrambled back to his feet.  
"Then I'll wrestle you for it," he huffed.  
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" she pointedly looked at him, trying to cover the smirk on her face. When he didn't respond, she turned back to look at him and found him intently staring at his phone.

"Do you know this number?" he flashed her the screen.  
"555-0123? It's like Bruce Almighty," she chuckled but then her and Dean exchanged thoughtful looks.  
"No," he shook his head with a laugh, "There's no way."  
"That would be ridiculous!" Carter agreed, kicking off her shoes, "What if it's Cas?"

Dean pondered the thought, "Then I'll call him back later."

Carter snorted, pulling her hoodie over her head. Dean saw his opportunity and pounced, pushing the unsuspecting girl from the bed as she was tangled in her sweatshirt.

"Not cool, Dean!" she jumped up, whipping the garment to the floor.  
"Finders keepers," he grinned, settling back into the pillows.  
"What are you twelve?" she folded her arms across her chest.  
"Absolutely," he said, grabbing the remote.

She scowled as she took her pajamas into the bathroom after Sam came out. He was fully dressed, not looking like he was getting ready for bed.

"Where are _you_ going?" Dean frowned.  
"Oh uh...I was just going to get a bite to eat," Sam said, lacing up his shoes.  
"Dude, we just ate," Dean reminded him.  
"I know. But I didn't eat a whole lot," he shrugged, grabbing the keys to the Impala.

Dean wasn't an idiot. He knew something was going on and he had a nagging suspicion that Ruby was somehow involved.

"You know that sharing idea is starting to sound better," Carter came out in her shorts and tank top.  
"Nice try, Barbie," Dean rolled his eyes.  
"Oh come on!" she stomped her foot, "Please, Dean. My back hurts."

He loved watching her beg. Especially since he knows she's not going to deck him in the face like she used to do.

"Funny how your tone changes when you don't get something you want," he taunted.

She let out another growl, going to throw her dirty clothes in her bag. Then she decided to change her strategy and she smirked.

"Dean?"  
"No, Carter," he flatly answered.  
"You didn't even hear what I was going to ask," she pouted.  
"What?" he shortly asked, turning his head to look at her.  
"Can you unhook my bra?" she turned so that her back was facing him.

She heard him struggling to find words and her smirk widened as she glanced over her shoulder. It was a challenge, Dean recognized and he was not about to back down. A smirk of his own firmly set upon his lips, he stood behind her, sliding his hands underneath her tank-top. She shivered at his cold hands, his fingers fumbling with the clasp until the fabric came loose.

"Thanks," she turned to face him as she slipped the bra from out of her shirt, exhaling sharply as the cold air rushed against her skin.  
"You're welcome," he smirked, eyes flicking down ever-so slightly.

And that's when she quickly rounded him, creeping under the blankets of his bed. Realizing his mistake, Dean let out a groan.

"Now _that_ is not cool, Carter," he accused.  
"Why? Because I toyed with your hormones?" she laughed.  
"Yes!"  
"Quit your bitchin' and come on," she beckoned him over, patting the mattress next to her, "So long as your hands don't roam and your shirt stays on."

Dean rolled his eyes but smirked nonetheless as he dropped his jeans and pulled off his socks. Making room for him, Carter turned onto her side as he climbed under the covers with her, his body heat resonating from him. He was so close to her she could smell his cologne mixing with his sweat from the hunt they just returned from. He was so close it was almost dizzying.

Ever since she and Dean had kissed, it was all Carter could think about. She had been so embarrassed when it happened but she couldn't deny the fact that she wanted another. So she had been dropping subtle hints and flirting with him more than usual. All that she could get another kiss...maybe more.

"Why'd you give in?" he asked, her eyes still not adjusted to the darkness.  
"I'm too tired to keep arguing. Plus I really wanted a bed and I knew you would just pick me and throw me on the floor," she honestly told him making him chuckle.

"Me? I would _never_ do that," he grinned.  
"Shut up, fool," she pushed on his chest.

They fell silent after that, the only sound that could be heard was the passing trucks and cars outside on the highway. But neither was trying to fall asleep. They were just lying there, contented in each other's body heat.

"You can come closer, you know," he amusedly said.  
"I know," she nodded, not moving. But it didn't take long for her to scoot over to him where he easily wrapped his arm around her to bring her firmly into his body.

"This is so weird," he said after a while.  
"Why's that?" she mumbled, the sleep weighing heavily on her eyes.  
"I'll wake up in the morning and you'll still be here...that like, _never_ happens with me and women," he poked fun at himself.  
"You're so charming, Lance," she drawled, tiredly nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck.

Her affectionate move made him tense slightly. Carter couldn't possibly be interested in him that way, could she? Sure they've been friendlier to each other and they kissed...but that was just a heat of the moment sort of thing. Carter's hot, he's obviously hot so they were bound to hook up. But God damn it here he was sharing a bed with her and they weren't even naked.

What was wrong with him? He should be making a move! He's got Carter exactly where he wanted her and Sam wasn't even around!

He still just lay there.

Why couldn't he make a move? All he would have to do is turn his face down and kiss her. It would be so easy. He just couldn't do it and now he heard her breath come out in even, steady exhales.

And then he realized why he couldn't.

He cared too much about her.

He cared too much to just use her like that.

He respected everything about her that he wouldn't force her into anything she didn't want.

Dean would _never_ admit it to anyone—and was even having trouble admitting it to himself—but he cared deeply about the girl enveloped in his arms.

* * *

_Carter was at the beach, riding a sick wave of warm, salty water. She hadn't felt so free and happy for a _long _time. It was summer, the sun brightly shining, the laughter of kids playing in the shallows, and the smell of a barbecue wafting over the beach. It was just like she remembered it from her childhood. _

_The wave eventually crashed out and she had to paddle her surf board back out into the open water to catch the next one. Tania was lounging in the sand, the most recent Cosmopolitan in hand as she bathed in the sun's glorious rays. Logan was behind her, waving at Carter as he grilled up some brats and burgers, his hunger pulling him out of the surf. _

_Everyone was just so happy. _

_It was perfect. _

_"Carter."_

_She was suddenly standing on the beach. The sights and sounds of summer completely vanished and Logan and Tania—along with everyone else—were nowhere to be found. The only other being around was Castiel, standing directly before the girl._

_"What the hell?" she confusedly gazed around her, then felt suddenly depressed, "I'm dreaming."_

_"Yes," Cas answered, worriedly glancing around. _

_"What's wrong?" she frowned, his nervousness made her uneasy. _

_"Watch yourself. I can't say much more, someone might be listening. I gave Dean the address. You must leave now," he said, not making any sense to Carter. _

_But she didn't have time to question him for he was gone as soon as he showed up. _

She jumped at the sound of a truck horn, feeling Dean stirring next to her.

"He said he gave you an address," she turned to face him.  
"You saw him too?" he asked.  
"He told me to watch myself," she whispered, "What does that mean?"  
"Get dressed. We're going to find out," he told her, sliding from his bed and shaking Sam awake.

It was hard to miss the feverish look Sam had about him when Dean shook him awake. He was slightly pale and clammy, his eyes frantic and not able to focus. They had no time to dwell on the fact, though, so Dean made a smart-assed comment before turning to the bathroom.

* * *

"Stay close," Dean hissed for about the hundredth time as Carter started to drift away again. However, instead of blatantly ignoring him, she just rolled her eyes and waited until the brothers had caught up to her.

"I don't know what you think is going to happen. It's just Cas," she muttered.  
"He said to watch yourself. So we're going to watch out for you," Dean replied, making Carter chuckle.

"What's so funny?"  
"Now who's the angel's bitch?" she couldn't help but say knowing Dean gave her more crap than anyone about listening to the angel's orders. He merely grumbled as they continued their cautious path through the abandoned warehouse. Trekking up the stairs, things were found in chaos; loose electrical wires sparking, mangled steel, overturned machinery. Carter flinched at the sparking electrical lines, one more drifting away from the other two.

"It looks like a bomb went off," Sam expressed the worry all three hunter's felt.  
"You two check down here. I'm gonna take a look up there," Carter pointed to the flight of rickety metal.  
"No, Carter, wait—" Dean hissed, but his words fell on deaf ears as she blatantly ignored him, darting up the staircase.

On the small mezzanine level, Carter could still hear Sam and Dean's voices but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Things in the loft were in no better shape than they were down below. It all vaguely reminded Carter of the way their rooms would look after she would fight with Dean.

But...who would Castiel be fighting?

Demons?

Lillith?

Or worse...more angels like Uriel.

_Keep an eye on her. There's something bigger going on in Heaven...the angels are beginning to turn on Carter_

A nagging suspicion made Carter's skin crawl as the Winchester's voices grew quieter under the loud echoes of her footsteps.

_But I don't know anything...how could they possibly turn against me?_ She wondered, her flashlight falling on a deep crimson set of symbols. Absorbed in her thoughts, she almost missed it but was conscious enough to turn back, frowning as she examined them more closely.

Enochian.

It was written in blood and was only half-finished, but it was enough to send Carter crashing to her knees, painfully clutching her head as the searing headache came out of nowhere.

_Something was wrong. _

_Demons were scrambling, shouting, and in an all-around state of panic. No one even cared that Carter was in plain sight and out of her cell, darting between all the terrified, horrendous beings of Hell. And she felt the foreboding as well. It was unlike anything she's ever felt before. It was like a feeling of calm, peace but also bursting strength and power and she felt it within herself. It's what gave her the courage to face them. After Dean flipped, Alastair had revoked her roaming privileges and used him against her._

_"And where do you think you're going?"_

_At the sound of Alastair's voice, Carter whirled around on her heel. The fear in her eyes was readily apparent but the demon could see something else there, too. _

_"Try and stop me," she growled. _

_"I won't have to," he grinned, a strong pair of hands clamping down on her arms. _

_Carter had been expecting him, and shook Dean's strong body off of her, deflecting his blow and swiping his razor from his hand. Alastair roared, adding to the frenzied chaos, as Carter sliced her arm open to coat her fingers in her own blood. Dean was too dazed to stop her and Alastair was impeded by a crowd of souls and demons. Not wasting her opportunity, Carter drew line after line of Enochian on the wall, just getting the last symbol in as Alastair painfully wrenched down on her shoulder. _

_"You're too late!" she winced, "They're coming!"_

_The absolute terror in Alastair's hollow eyes was unmistakable as a near-blinding white light broke through the fiery orange of Hell. The angel—for that's the only thing the light could be—clamped his hand over Alastair's on the girl's shoulder, inadvertently burning the demon's print onto her skin. All Carter could remember after that was the most painful sensation imaginable as she felt like she was being sucked through a small tube, her body bones and muscles rolling over themselves until she found herself gasping for air six feet underground. _

"Carter!" Dean roughly yanked on her shoulder, "You answer me when I call you. Dammit!"

She only blinked at him, trying to adjust to reality. The headache had not caused her to pass out like it had previously...only put her in a daze.

"What's going on?" Carter ignored Dean's rage, standing up and looking past him to Castiel and Sam. Only, Cas didn't seem like himself. He was fidgety and anxious and his movements were more natural, not stiff like the angel's usually were.

"Cas is gone. The angels blew him back to wherever," Dean gruffly explained, not liking the fact that she just disregarded his anger.  
"Who's this then?" she eyed up the man.  
"I'm—"  
"This is Jimmy. He's Cas' vessel."

* * *

"Yeah, can I get six of the deluxe doubles, three large orders of fries, an order of onion rings, and four large cokes?" Carter read off her grocery list to the teenage girl at the register of a local burger joint. The girl gave her a funny look, making Carter frown and become impatient as she just gawked at her.

"I'm pregnant," Carter pointedly said, the girl shrugging her shoulders as she calculated the total.  
"That'll be $42.82," the girl said as Carter handed her a fifty.  
"Here you are," the girl's eyes lightened up and she smiled, handing Carter the change, "Your order number is 142."  
"Thanks," Carter rolled her eyes as she saw why the girl had a mood swing.

"Didja get the food?" Dean asked, joining Carter at the front counter.  
"Patience, beast, they're making it," she mocked.  
"I _have_ patience. Eternal Sunshine out there doesn't," Dean jabbed his thumb in the direction of Jimmy.  
"Whatever," Carter shook her head, methodically rubbing her forehead as her headache from the warehouse lingered.

"Is there anything I can do for _you_?" the cashier batted her eyelashes at Dean.

Dean looked at her a moment before cracking a smile at her, "I'm sure you can."

Carter scoffed, latching onto his arm as she dragged him away from the counter to one of the tables to wait for their food.

"What are you doing?" he frowned.  
"Saving you from a lawsuit, cradle-rocker..." she derided.  
"She's not _that_ young," he defended himself.  
"She's got Justin Bieber decals on her finger nails," Carter retorted and watched as Dean glanced over his shoulder, spotting the very detail Carter pointed out.

"Ok fine. Next topic of conversation. What hell was that back at the warehouse?" he dropped his voice lower.  
"What are you talking about?" Carter wrote him off.  
"I was calling and calling but you didn't answer. I didn't know if something happened. Next time, when I tell you to stay close, you stay close," he scolded, his jaw firmly set.

"Ok, ok! Sorry," she tried placating him, seeing that the cashier was intently watching them, "I didn't hear you."

Dean breathed a sigh, feeling his irritation ebbing away, "What were you doing anyway?"

"There were just some symbols on the wall...they looked familiar," she said, her gaze becoming distant as she recalled her memory, trying to discern what they meant.

"Were they from Hell?" he quietly asked.  
"Yeah," she nodded, looking into his hazel-green eyes.

For a couple moments, all the two hunters could do was search each other's eyes. There was some kind of pull there...some kind of connection. They had felt it before, that feeling of comfort and of contentment but this was somehow different. Like there was something _more_.

"142."

The girl's voice broke them from their staring contest and Carter could feel her cheeks turn pink as she stood to grab the bags of food.


	32. Chapter 31

**Phew! I have had such a long and exhausting week and my weekend is not much better. However, with some help from MrsMercer (who is now ThirdRateRockStar), I found some time to get out this next chapter!**

**So, thank you so much ThirdRateRockStar for editing this chapter. I would not have found time to do it otherwise!**

**Here you are ladies (and gents if you're out there)!**

* * *

"Are you going to eat your onion rings?" Jimmy eyed up Carter's food as she incredulously watched him practically inhale his food.  
"Knock yourself out," she pushed the container toward him, her stomach growling in protest just watching him eat.

Tearing her eyes away from the unsettling sight, Carter leaned back on her chair to glance out the window. Sam and Dean had headed outside some ten minutes ago to talk about what to do with Jimmy and still have yet to come to a decision.

"He sure has a soft spot for you," Jimmy spoke through a mouthful of food.  
"Sorry?" Carter turned to look at him.  
"Castiel. Whenever you were around I could tell. Something would be different, he would feel differently," Jimmy somewhat vaguely explained.  
"That's...comforting," she breathed, "What else do you know about us?"

The look Jimmy gave her made Carter squirm. Apparently Castiel let slip more than anyone had anticipated and Carter hated that this stranger knew about her past.

"So...what now?" he tried to change the subject, observing her discomfort as he tossed away all his trash.  
"I don't know exactly," she sighed, "Sam and Dean are talking that over now. We need to figure out what happened and what Cas was going to tell us. You're _positive_ you don't know anything?"  
"No! What you think I'm _lying_?" he defensively retorted.  
"No. I'm just making sure. You're just so jazzed to go home we need to consider all possibilities, especially with something as important as this," she held up her hands, trying to coax him back into his seat. But Jimmy was dead set on standing and remained that way until Sam and Dean came back in.

"So what's the plan?" Carter asked, folding her arms across her chest.  
"The plan is to keep Jimmy with us," Dean answered, "It's too risky to take you home."  
"What the hell are you taking about I can't go home?" he immediately protested.  
"There's a good chance you have a target on your back," Dean mirrored Carter's action.  
"What? From who?"

_Who else?_ Carter couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Demons," Dean replied, looking between Carter and Sam.  
"C'mon, that's crazy. What do they want with me?" Jimmy shook his head.  
"I don't know. Information maybe?"  
"I don't know anything!" he practically shouted.  
"We get that, Jimmy," Carter rose, rounding the table by Sam and Dean, sensing that he just might try to dash away.

"Look. I'm done, okay? With demons, angels, all of it. I just want to go home," he pleaded.  
"We understand—"  
"I don't think that you _do_ understand. I've been shot and stabbed and healed and my body has been dragged all over the earth. By some miracle, I'm out. And I am done. I've given enough, okay?"

"All we're saying is that until we figure this out, the safest place is with us," Sam stood as well.  
"How long?" he crossly asked.

Sam sighed, not sure how to respond, "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Jimmy, clearly not liking that answer, shook his head with a noise of repugnance brushing past Dean and Carter.

"Where are you going?" Dean tiredly asked as Sam blocked the door.  
"To see my wife and daughter, okay?" he frustratingly sighed.  
"No. You're not. You're just going to put those people in danger," Sam held out his hands in case Jimmy decided to bolt.  
"So, what, now I'm a prisoner?" he hotly implored.  
"Harsh way to put it," Sam shrugged.

Carter really had no idea what Jimmy was going through, but if the sad look on his face was any indication, she could at least sympathize with him as he frustratingly ran his hands over his face. Sam could have been a bit less callous about it, but lately it seems Sam's doing everything counter to what he had been when Carter first met him. And she noticed how the demon in blood in him was giving off yo-yoing signals, a fact that made her shudder as she turned out the door to grab a soda.

"Grab me a coke will ya?" Dean suddenly spoke from behind her, making her jump from surprise.

"Ass!" she whipped around and punched his arm.  
"Sorry," he chuckled, not at all feeling remorse for scaring her.  
"My ass you're sorry," she mumbled handing him a coke from the machine as she got herself a Mountain Dew.

Together and in a calm silence, they strode back to the impala where Dean helped her onto the trunk before hopping on himself. It was a cold night in South-Central Wisconsin, the remnants of the last snowfall still on the ground.

"It's cold," Carter noted, rubbing her arms to try and create some warmth. Then she heard the door creak open and watched as Dean pulled out his leather jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

She had just been trying to make conversation, not really complaining about the weather. However, she can't really say she minded what Dean did.

"You know I wasn't fishing for a hand out," she told him with a slight smile.  
"You said you were cold and my jacket was in the backseat," he nonchalantly shrugged, avoiding her eye. His answer only made her smile widen.  
"I said _it_ was cold. I never said that _I_ was cold," she quietly corrected him, taking a drink of her soda as she felt some kind of pride in pointing out his caring gesture.

"So I gave you a friggin' jacket. What's the big deal?" he crossly accused.  
"I didn't say anything!" she defended herself with a slightly amused smile, "Calm down, Lancelot."  
"Well what are you trying to say, Carter?" he angled his body toward her.  
"Nothing!" she insisted, "All I was doing was making conversation and _you're_ the one who got the jacket!"  
"_It's just a jacket!_" he repeated.

Carter rolled her eyes at how blown out of proportion this argument had gotten. Could it even really be called that? They were annoyed, sure, but it was over something stupid...Carter wasn't even sure what it was really about. Either way, another silence fell between the two as an icy wind kicked up her hair. The chill made Carter's hair stand on end and she shuddered as a dark sense of foreboding crept under her skin. Ever since New Haven that feeling had been growing. At first, it had been nothing and she just attributed it to dealing with the loss of her two best friends.

But then the thing with Sam...

And the way her memories are coming more frequent...

And Cas' warning...

And now his disappearance...

Something just isn't right.

"I feel like we're in the calm before the storm," she broke the still silence, Dean's eyes looking down at her, "Like any moment everything is just going to spiral out of control."

She met his gaze and held it for a while, searching his eyes for some kind of understanding. There was something else there, though, and before she could really look he tore his eyes away from her.

"I know what you mean," Dean sighed, "And I'd say let's call Cas..."  
"But we can't," she finished for him, downing the last of her soda.

Carter stomped on the aluminum can before tossing it into the nearest recycling bin as Dean finished off his Coke.

"Why do our conversations always turn so gloomy?" she mused as Dean lifted her from the trunk with his hands under her arms.  
"Because our lives suck," he snorted, leading her back to the room with his hand pressed to the small of her back.

"What are we doing for sleeping arrangements?" Carter quietly asked, seeing that Jimmy was already fast asleep in one of the beds.  
"One of us should stay awake and watch the flight risk over there," Dean folded his arms across his chest.  
"We can do it in shifts," Carter suggested, "I can do first watch."  
"Wake me up next," Sam nodded, pulling off his shoes before sprawling out on the couch.  
"And that leaves me the bed," Dean eagerly rubbed his hands together, garnering an eye roll from Carter.

Seeing as it would be a few hours before Sam took his turn, Carter lifted the chair and brought it to the side of Dean's bed where she flipped on the TV. Beside her, Dean grumbled as he pulled his other jacket over his eyes. Carter only smirked, turning down the volume more, just to be sure she wouldn't wake Jimmy. However, as she settled into her chair, Carter realized just how much her body was wracked with exhaustion and she wasn't able to fend off the pull of sleep.

_The agonizing groans of pain and piercing screams of terror were unmistakable to her poor ears. _

_Carter was in hell. _

_Her body grew stiff in realization before she darted off to the only place in which she could find solace. Eventually the screams faded into silence and she could slow her fast and furious pace. Something was off, though. She had not reached the outer circle. Over all the years she's travelled this path, she knows she should be there already. It was just an endless path, familiar landmarks only being repeated as she kept walking. _

_"Now, love, don't tell me you actually believed we didn't know you were snooping around."_

_Carter fled from the voice as it let out a maniacal cackle that seemed to follow her wherever she ran. And then, the demon was suddenly in front of her, cutting off her only path of escape across a lone stone-bridge. _

_"Reaver," she growled, recognizing the demon even in his gruesome natural form.  
__"Bravo," he taunted, his body shifting in appearance so that he looked like Damon again, "So you're not as thick as I previously suspected."  
__"This is a dream," she determined through gasps of air.  
__"Is it now? Are you sure about that?" he posed, striding closer to her only making her flinch away. _

_"What's the matter? Don't like this body?" he frowned, vanishing in an instant. _

_Carter frantically looked around her, breathing a sigh of relief when the demon was nowhere in sight. Something still wasn't quite right, however, and she was still rooted to the spot almost afraid to move. _

_"C'mon, Barbie, don't look so scared," Carter turned at the sound of Dean's voice.  
__"Dean?" she scrunched her face in confusion.  
__"You're only dreaming," he smirked, sauntering over to her, "Now...if this were _my_ dream we would certainly _not_ be in hell." _

_His eye roved unabashedly up and down her body as he slowly backed her up again the stone wall._

_"What are you talking about?" she shook her head, feeling her heart beating faster.  
__"C'mon, Carter, don't pretend like you don't think about it...you...and me. God knows I certainly have," he placed his hands firmly on her waist. _

_Then abruptly, almost violently, Carter shoved him away from her._

_"You're not him!" she roared.  
__"Whoa, whoa, Carter. Chill out for a second! It's me! It's Dean!" he defensively threw up his hands.  
__"No!" she barked.  
__"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be!"  
__"Because I'm not about to fall for the same trick twice!" she cried, feeling the tears warm behind her eyes. _

_Dean's face suddenly contorted into a wicked grin, "I say, you figured it out much quicker than I would have expected. I didn't even get to give you a kiss."_

_"Get out of my head! This is just a dream!" she screamed again._

_Dean's hands were firmly on her waist again, his breath flushing across her cheeks as he bowed his head down so that his lips were mere centimeters from hers._

_"If it's just a dream...then wake up. Just will me away," he heavily whispered. No amount of "willing" or thinking would send the demon away and she had to endure a long, drawn out kiss from the demon posing as Dean. _

_"You can't, can you?" he knowingly quipped as he pulled back to observe her reaction. There were no words to describe what was happening to her. All she wanted to do was wake up but she couldn't. _

_She _knew_ she was asleep...right?_

_"Now that we're on the same page we can get down to business. You're more important to this apocalypse thing than you realize. I reckon that's why the angels are turning on you," he disinterestedly proposed. _

_"Why?" she shrieked, "I haven't done anything!"  
__"Deep down you know," he nodded, "Somewhere...buried deep within your soul...is chaos. It's always been chaos with you...your emotions, your feelings, your thoughts, your life."_

_"What the hell are you talking about? Exactly who do you think I am?" she frustratingly barked. _

_Reaver, still as Dean, only smirked._

_"It's time to wake up," he stated.  
__"What?"  
__"Wake up. Wake up, Carter," his voice began to sound remarkably like Sam's and suddenly Carter felt herself being jolted awake. _

"Carter."

Her eyes snapped open and she jumped at the dark form in front of her. With a quick shake of her head, her vision cleared and the large form of Sam focused in front of her.

"Why don't you go ahead and get some real rest. I'll take your watch," he suggested, pretending he didn't see how shaken up she was.  
"Sorry," she shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around that dream.  
"Just get some sleep," he nodded, and pulled the chair so that he could sit and watch TV without disturbing either Jimmy or Dean.

Carrying Dean's leather jacket with her, Carter walked over to his bed kneeling on the edge to wake him.

"Move over," she whispered, prodding him in the shoulder.  
"Persuade me," he grumbled back with his eyes still closed.

Her persuasion was a swift but strong punch in the arm.

"Ow!" he hissed, clutching his arm and glaring daggers at her, "That's not what I meant!"  
"I said, 'move over,'" she sternly repeated, not having any sort of patience for his antics.

Even in the dim light of the room, Dean could see her distress and rolled onto his back, pulling his other jacket over his body. Wordlessly, Carter rolled into the bed, yanking Dean's jacket over her shoulders as a blanket, her head falling on Dean's arm.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he quietly asked after she got settled.  
"Is it that obvious?" she asked back.  
"No...well yeah," he answered, trying to lighten her mood to get her to relax. But she didn't. She was stiff as a board, her head heavily weighing down on his arm.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he wondered.  
"No," she flatly said, turning over to her other side facing away from him.

Dean let out a long sigh, feeling that familiar pit grow in his stomach whenever he saw Carter feeling so miserable. Slightly turning and propping his head up on one hand, Dean dipped his hand under his jacket, letting his knuckled gently roll down her back. He went up and down the length of her body, the back of his hand sweeping over the bumps of her spine. She gave no sign of objection and Dean smirked when her body gave a small shudder. As much as she tried to deny it, it was clear that Dean has an effect on her.

It only took a few more minutes before Carter relaxed into the mattress but Dean didn't stop his soothing motion until she was fast asleep. Once he was sure she was, he rolled once more onto his back, enjoying the slight weight Carter's body pushed against his.

* * *

"_Get up. We need to go_," Carter vaguely heard Sam barking at Dean. A wave of sound soon followed and Carter stirred as she woke from sleep.

"Jimmy's gone. We have to get up," Dean lightly shook her, starting to roll off the bed. Almost immediately, Carter flopped over onto Dean, locking him to the bed.

"Mmm mmm," she shook her head, "Five more minutes."  
"Carter—"  
"Five more minutes," she repeated, readjusting her position on his chest so that he could lie more comfortably. Eventually Dean gave in, hearing the shower turn on in the bathroom. He found himself positioning his arms around Carter's body, hauling her up farther on his chest so that his chin was buried somewhere in her mess of brown hair. A deep calm washed over him as sleep began to weigh on his eyelids. He forgot all about Jimmy's disappearance as Carter's fingertips traced delicate patterns on the fabric of his t-shirt over his stomach.

With the clunk of the pipes in the bathroom, though, Dean's eyes snapped back open, meeting a pair of dark blues.

"You totally zonked out," Carter grinned, patting his chest and pressing the most fleeting of kisses to his cheek, just catching the corner of his mouth.

"Dean!" Sam barked, coming out of the bathroom seeing that Dean was still lounging while Carter was busy grabbing some clothes.

She let out a laugh, winking at Dean, "I'll be washing my hair."

Dean could still feel the tingling her lips left on the corner of his mouth as he went to gather some clothes of his own. The action puzzled him. And that fact in itself was puzzling.

Why the _hell_ did he care?

Why was he even _thinking_ about it?

Then again, why did Carter think about the jacket he gave her last night?

At that thought, Dean's eyes fell on his brown leather jacket and remembered how good it looked on Carter...how sexy...

"Dean!" Sam urged again.  
"Cool it, Gigantor," he held his hands up, not thinking as he walked into the bathroom.

While not completely naked, the sight of Carter in just her bra and jeans leaning over the sink made Dean's blood pump harder and a lump to form in his throat.

"Thanks for knocking," she scoffed, coolly wrapping her hair into a towel, pointedly looking at Dean with her hand on her hip.  
"I didn't anticipate you being shirtless," he furrowed an eyebrow at her.  
"I said I was washing my hair," she repeated, running the towel through her hair.  
"And that warrants you being topless how?" he smirked, half-trying to conceal his onceover of her.  
"Well, I didn't want to get my shirt all wet," she grinned back, feeling her cheeks flame a light pink as his eyes wandered.  
"Not saying that I mind of course," he looked down at her as she stood right in front of him.  
"Oh, of course," she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Dean still just stood there, wondering what was going through her mind as he desperately tried to control his thoughts and urges.

"You just going to stand there?" she furrowed her eyebrow.  
"What?" Dean asked, misunderstanding her question.  
"My shirt is over there," she stood on her toes, pointing over his shoulder at her shirt on the counter.

Her breath swirled into his nose, the spicy cinnamon scent having almost an intoxicating effect on him.

And she knew it.

Her eyes dropped to his lips as she fell back on her heels and she looked slightly disappointed when Dean simply side-stepped, giving her room to grab her shirt. Reaching for her shirt, Carter was startled when Dean roughly forced her against the door. For a moment she was ready to chew him out, but then saw the desire blazing in his eyes and smirked. In a frenzied rush, their lips met, Carter edging her fingers into his short brown hair. Carter savored the feeling of Dean's tongue sliding across her lips before parting them as her body shuddered with intense delight. With this invitation, Dean pushed her even harder against the door, bowing his head down even more to kiss her more deeply.

Her lips were rough, from the nervous habit of biting at the skin, but Dean hardly cared. The curves of her body fit perfectly in his hands and the feistiness behind her kiss was enough to drive him mad...among other things. Like the way her hips were pressed ever-so-slightly to his and the way her fingers sank deep into his neck, betraying her obvious want of him.

Carter nearly kicked herself when she heard Sam's voice through the door, "What are you two _doing_? Let's _go_!"

Dean broke away, breathing heavily in her ear, not able to resist trailing a slow, languid path along her jaw and neck.

"Dean stole my toothpaste!" she mustered up the best angry voice she could as she fought off the shiver of pleasure Dean was creating on her neck.

"Get over it!" Sam called back and Carter was forced to push Dean off of her and tug her shirt over her head, disappearing through the door. Dean heard her bickering with Sam as she shut the door behind her.

_What_ in the _world_ just happened?


	33. Chapter 32

**I am FREE. Holy crap that was the WORST two weeks of my college career. But it's done and after I post this chapter I am celebrating the only way I know how ;)**

**Work hard, play harder.**

**Anyway. Once again thank you ThirdRateRockStar for editing this chapter!**

**And thank you to everyone who has reviewed and such! Sorry I haven't been able to individually thank you but I will be sure to do so in the future!**

**Here you are, my dears...**

* * *

As much as she tried, Carter could not get her mind off what happened earlier as she sat in the back of the Impala. For the most part, Sam sat in agitated silence as Dean occasionally provoked him with witty remarks about his guard-duty skills.

Carter got what she wanted, she got him to kiss her. Granted, it was at a terrible time and she hadn't intended to be _shirtless_. All the same, she got what she wanted.

And now what?

Dean had hardly reacted when he stepped back out from the bathroom. He barely even spared a glance in Carter's direction. The damn kiss was his fault, he initiated it. The least he could do was acknowledge it _happened_ so she wouldn't feel so stupid.

Then again...

What had she been expecting?

She knew Dean was loose with women...maybe it was just an urge and she was there so he took it. Maybe it was just nothing...no sexual tension whatsoever and certainly no underlying motives.

"Why so quiet?" Dean looked at her through the mirror and she lifted her head from the window.  
"Wasn't exactly planning on waking up three hours early," she smirked, seeing her comment getting under Sam's skin. But then she frowned when she felt something surge within him.

_Stupid Dean,_ Carter let her head fall back onto the cool glass of the window.

From the front seat, Dean let out a small sigh as Carter became disinterested again. How could she go from being _so_ interested to flat out neutral?

_What if she didn't want to be kissed?_ Dean suddenly thought, and he risked another glance in the rearview mirror.

She just looked bored. Not really pissed or hurt, not like when Sam had kissed her.

_So what's her deal?_ Dean slightly frowned.

"Hey guys."

"WHOA!" the sudden loud voice from the back alarmed everyone in the car; Dean and Carter letting out screams as Dean swerved into oncoming traffic then realigned himself in the correct lane. Carter had a death-grip on Sam's arm and seat as she was pressing herself as tightly to the side of the car as possible, eyes widened with fright at the girl who just materialized in the backseat.

"Smooth," she commented.

"Who the _fuck_ are you!" Carter practically shouted, still not over her shock.  
"You ever try calling ahead?" Dean growls from the driver's seat.  
"I like the element of surprise."

"Well la-dee-da, but who the hell are you?" Carter shouted again.  
"Cool it," Sam frowned back at her, removing her viselike grip around his arm.

Dean took a moment to glance back at this new woman in the back seat, smirking to himself as he looked back to the road.

"Boy you look terrific," he commented, making Carter furrow an eyebrow.

_I knew it. The man is horny!_ She crossly folded her arms across her chest, feeling slightly irritated at the presence of this new female.

"Um yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean," the woman advised.

"Yeah, _Dean_," Carter added, the first to refer to what happened earlier this morning.

Dean only shrugged, feeling a slight pang of guilt at Carter's tone.

"So who are you?" Carter shook her head, her annoyance toward Dean edging out of her voice.  
"I'm Anna," she stoically answered.  
"She's an angel," Sam added and Carter's eyes widened again in slight fear, something that Anna didn't miss.  
"Don't worry, Carter Augustine, you don't have to fear me. I will do you no harm."

"No offense but I'm not really reassured," Carter fidgeted in her seat, "I'm kind of on the angels' shit-list at the moment."  
"They'll get over it. You let Jimmy get away?" she blew off Carter's comment and instead turned her attention to the boys, striking another nerve in Carter.

"Talk to ginormo over here," Dean jabbed his thumb in Sam's direction, who was not pleased to be blamed again.

"Sam," Anna nodded, "You seem...different."  
"Me? I don't know. A haircut?" he chuckled.  
"That's not what I'm talking about," she shook her head.

Carter curiously watched the exchange end with Sam turning—thoroughly disgruntled—back into his seat. Then Carter saw the knowing looking in Anna's eyes.

_So she senses it too_? Carter wondered with a frown.

"So what'd Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?" she asked Dean.  
"Nothing. Not a single thing," Carter shook her head.  
"Why what's going on?"  
"It's Cas. He got sent back home...well, more like dragged back," Anna nervously corrected herself.

"To Heaven? That's not a good thing?" Dean wondered as Carter felt another pit growing in her stomach.  
"No! That's a very _bad_ thing. Painfully, awfully bad," Carter exchanged nervous glances with the boys up front.

"He must've seriously pissed someone off," Anna lamented.

"Cas said he had something to tell us. He said Carter should watch out for the angels," Dean explained, Anna shooting Carter a glance.  
"What?"  
"We don't know," Carter shook her head.  
"Does Jimmy know?"  
"I don't think so," Dean sighed.  
"You don't _think_ so? Whatever it is, it's huge. You gotta find out for sure," she told them.

_As if we didn't know that_, Carter rolled her eyes.

"That's why we're going after Jimmy," Sam admonished.  
"That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place," she retorted and Carter had to force down a smirk.  
"Well what about the angels and Carter? Cas said they were turning on her. Exactly what does he mean?" Dean changed the subject and Carter caught the slightest tone of concern in his voice.

"They're angry. From what I've heard they think Carter may be a double agent," Anna replied.  
"They think I'm a _what_?" she incredulously blurted out.  
"You broke the seal in New Haven, did you not?" Anna reminded her and Sam sharply spun around in his seat, making Carter's face burn red.  
"But that wasn't her fault," Dean defended her.  
"You knew?" Sam accused, Dean ignoring his sharp stare, "When were you two planning on telling me?"  
"They think you're working with Lucifer," Anna interjected.  
"But it's not my fault!" Carter yelled.

"Alright enough!" Dean's voice rose above everyone else and the car fell silent.

Sam was fuming in his seat from being lied to, Anna was indifferent, and Carter looked like she was hyperventilating.

"We'll get Jimmy back," Dean determined through gritted teeth and a hard stare at Anna, "In the meantime it would probably be best if you tried to find out more about the angels and Cas."

"Got it," Anna nodded.  
"And, Anna?" Dean looked back at her, "Be careful."

With a small smile in Dean's direction, the angel disappeared. Upon finally being left alone in the back, Carter breathed a slight sigh of relief and her body visibly sank into the leather of the seat. Her moment of calm, though, was shaken as Dean pulled off of the highway.

"Umm—" Carter started to say but was floored when Dean pulled off to the side of the road in front of a gas station and yanked her from the car.

"Fill the car, Sam," Dean barked, keeping Carter locked against the side of the car.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" she shoved him away from her, sidling out from between his body and the car. Instead of forcing her back, he went to the trunk and pulled out her duffel.

"DEAN!" she shrieked trying to take back her bag. Confusion was not a strong enough word to describe what she's feeling.

"Listen, _asshole_!" she ripped her bag from his hands, nearly tearing a hole in the fabric, "I don't know _who_ you think you are bu—"

Carter was abruptly cut off once more, but this time it was because Dean placed a firm kiss to her lips, backing her back up into the Impala. Her back hit against the cool metal but Dean's warm hand was far more distracting along her side, smoothing down her gentle curves. Carter melted into his kiss, forgetting all about Sam. Not that it even mattered since he had gone inside to pay. But then Dean broke away, his breath still racing across her cheeks.

"What was that for?" Carter heard herself quietly ask, opening her eyes to look up into Dean's hazel-green irises.  
"To get you to shut up," he smirked, removing his hand from Carter's body, leaving an icy void in its place.

Carter was not amused and folded her arms across her chest, giving him a pointed glare.

"What the hell's your problem?" she spat.  
"You're not coming with me and Sam," he simply said, shouldering her bag.

For the second time in five minutes, Carter was floored and downright flabbergasted.

"What the hell you talkin' about!" she chased after him, practically jogging to keep up with his determined pace.

"I'm not going to have you in the middle of this angel bitch-fest. Not without Cas and not when they're confused about whose side you're on," he pointedly explained.

"But I can take care of myself!" Dean snorted at this, "HEY!" she lashed out at him, grabbing his arm so that he was facing her, "You said so yourself! You're going to need my help!"

For a short moment, Dean's eyes roved over the disconcerted look on her face and how her cheeks were tinged with pink from anger. He'd be the first one to admit that Carter would be useful on a hunt like this but he couldn't risk losing her to the angels...

"I'm sending you to Bobby's," he shook his head, striding away from her.  
"Dean, no!" she pleaded, desperation edging into her voice and that made Dean stop again.  
"Why are you so attached all of sudden?" he asked slightly curious and slightly amused.  
"Don't...leave me behind. You said you wouldn't do what my brother did," she quietly—almost shamefully—said.

Dean face suddenly softened. It never occurred to him what Carter would see this as.

"I'm not abandoning you," he gently assured her, placing his hand on her hip, that familiar burning sensation blazing throughout Carter's body.  
"Then let me come with you," she pleaded once more, subconsciously leaning into his body.  
"Carter...the angels..."  
"Save it, Lance," she drawled, making him smirk, "You and I both know you're not the chivalrous type."

Carter thought she had him, thought she had gotten her way yet again. But before she knew it, Dean pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and scrambled into the Impala with Sam.

She didn't have time to protest.

They were gone.

* * *

"Thanks for the wire transfer, Bobby. I'll pay you back once I get there," Carter spoke into her cell phone at a local airport, having just bought a ticket to Sioux Falls Regional Airport. With a huff, Carter collapsed into one of the terminal chairs, adjusting her phone on her ear.

"She said the angels think I'm working with the demons," Carter frowned, eyes roving around the terminal for wandering eyes or eavesdroppers, "Bobby, there's something I need to figure out. I've been having these weird, visions I guess but I—"

Carter's face suddenly darkened, hell elating all her senses and her frown deepened as a tall man with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes sat directly across from her.

And he was smirking right at her.

A demon.

Her senses never betrayed her and this man was a demon if she ever saw one.

And it knew that she knew.

"Bobby, I'll call you back," she cut off her conversation, wishing to God she had her sidearm with her.

"Relax, darling, I'm only here to chat," the demon spoke in accented English and it took nearly everything in Carter _not _to lunge at him in the middle of the airport.

"_Reaver_," she leered, feeling her heartbeat elevate and her skin crawl as the demon smirked at her.  
"Don't look so sour, love, you know you missed me," he jested, _daring_ to come and sit beside her.  
"Reaver, so help me God, if yo—"  
"God? Interesting that you choose to beseech _God_. You're so much stronger, love," he taunted.

"What do you want from me?" she hissed, utterly fed up with his mind games.  
"Relax," he ordered, his face turning serious as he dug in his coat pocket, "I _told_ you that you are more important to this apocalypse than you realize."  
"That was a—"  
"Dream? Yes but, darling, just because it was in your head doesn't mean it wasn't real," he condescending patted the top of her head before handing her a small slip of paper. Carter curiously gazed down at it without unfolding it.

"What is this?" she shook her head.  
"The angels don't like you very much at the moment...or did you not know?" he jeered, garnering another glare from her. Despite not getting a clear answer, Carter opened up the paper and sharply turned to Reaver who had a knowing smirk playing his lips. It was Enochian...not only that but it was the spell Carter stumbled upon in hell, the one about angels.

"What is this?" she gruffly looked at him.  
"_This_, my dear, will keep the angels off your back...so long as you pace yourself," he mused.  
"Pace myself?"  
"You know I'm a demon because of a spell, correct?" he attempted to explain, his patience wearing thin, "What do you suppose _this_ spell will do? Think hard, I know you'll get it."

The spell will give her power over angels like she has power over demons. With it, she can revert the angels own power back onto them...was this what they were afraid of? Why they erased her memories of hell? Did Cas know this? More importantly...

"Why are you giving this to me?" Carter was instantly suspicious.  
"Think of it as an apology...for killing your lover boy," he grinned, rising to his feet, "Though, from what I hear it didn't take you too long to move on."

Carter sprang from her chair ready to take the demon on but she stopped as he exerted his power over her.

"Easy there, darling. Don't make me do anything nasty," he threatened.  
"What's the catch?" she snarled, her hands balled into tight fists.  
"No catch," he shrugged his shoulders, "Just _pace_ yourself. Your body won't be able to hold all that angelic grace all at once. Ta."

And just like that he was gone.

Heart still racing from the demon encounter, Carter dropped her gaze to the Enochian script in her hand. She contemplated the strange symbols for a moment before pulling out her phone.

"Bobby, I need you to check something out for me. And what's the closest airport to Pontiac?"


	34. Chapter 33

**Sorry for the long delay again! Things got a bit crazy with the end of the semester and the holidays. I'm also struggling with a writer's block with this story so please bear with me. We're almost there!**

* * *

"You can never be with your family," Sam said flatly to Jimmy. "So you either get as far away from them as possible, or you put a bullet in your head, and that's how you keep your family safe. But there's no getting out and there's no going home."

It was a statement strikingly similar to the one Sam gave to Adam and Dean didn't like it then either.

"I'm just telling him the truth, Dean," Sam snapped, "Someone has to."

Dean was no idiot, thick and distracted at times, sure. Especially with his mixed emotions toward Carter, but he was no idiot. Sam had been seriously strung-out lately and Dean would go as far as to say belligerent. And not just to Dean but to Bobby and Carter as well.

And the odd hunting kick they've been on?

And the way Anna looked at him?

And the lies and secrets?

Mysterious phone calls late at night?

His friggin' Jedi powers failing to exorcise that chick at Jimmy's?

No.

Dean noticed and the possibilities of what it meant terrified him.

Their father had once told Dean to look after Sammy and if he couldn't he would have to kill him. Azazel, old yellow eyes himself, had said that Sam had been brought back differently. The angels said something similar and Dean didn't buy it then either.

Nobody knew Sam better than Dean.

Nobody.

And Dean was positive the rational and compassionate Sam would win out in the end.

Right?

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked after Jimmy sadly acquiesced to Sam.  
"I told you, he needed to hear the truth," Sam repeated.  
"No I mean what the hell is going on with you? You haven't been you, Sam. You're dukin' it out with Carter, jonesin' for the next hunt, you're anxious and defensive. I...I don't know man. What's going on?"

For a few terse moments, Sam's jaw was clenched tightly shut as he avoided Dean's inquiring gaze. It didn't take long before Dean knew he wasn't going to get answer and he annoyingly ran his hand over his mouth.

"I'm going to go find them a car," Sam avoided the subject, turning on his heel.

Breathing a heavy sigh, Dean fell into the sleek metal of the Impala trying to discern what exactly happened to his younger brother.

Then, at that moment, he strangely yearned for the company of a certain young woman, one with whom he had a strong connection. And no sooner had she crossed his mind when his phone began to vibrate and frowned as Carter's name flashed across the screen of his cell phone.

"If you're not a plane right now, Carter, so help me God—"  
"_Quiet, Lance. Where are you right now?_"  
"We have Jimmy. He's okay...sort of," he glanced behind him at Jimmy and his wife, "The demons were waiting for him at his house."  
"_Is he alright? Are you alright?_" she asked, the worry evident in her voice and Dean couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips.

"I'm fine, Carter," he reassured her, "We're all fine. We're just at a parking garage, trying to find Jimmy's wife and kid a car and then we're going to head to Bobby's."  
"_No angels?_"  
"No angels," Dean shook his head despite the fact that Carter couldn't see it.  
"_Well_..._where are you exactly? I can meet up with you_," she slowly asked again.

Dean grumbled into the phone, "I _told_ you to go to Bobby's."

"_Something came up. Just give me an address and I'll hitchhike on over to you._"  
"What are you trying to give me a heart attack? Take a taxi," he ordered.  
"_Fine. You're paying me back_," he heard her heave a sigh on the other end before the line clicked off.

Despite the fact that she once again disobeyed him, Dean was glad that Carter was coming. A sickening pit in his stomach told him that he was going to need her in the next couple hours...

* * *

_Trouble. Stay away._

That was the text Carter got after Sam and Dean didn't show up at the meeting place. Almost immediately, Carter tracked Dean's cell phone through the GPS and found her way to the Pontiac industrial park.

She was running—more like sprinting—as fast as she could through the abandoned buildings. Her lungs seared with pain and her heart was beating so fast and hard, she thought it might just burst through her chest. And she was so _pissed_ that Dean made her leave. She could have helped them if she was there...or she liked to think so anyway.

But she was mostly scared.

Carter didn't know what exactly "trouble" meant or how many demons they were dealing with or if it was even Lillith. _That_ thought made her want to turn right back around but she couldn't just abandon Sam and Dean...not after everything they have done for her.

Voices in the next building forced Carter to skid to a stop and turn her fast and furious pace into a stealthy crawl. The demons were hard _not_ to miss but there was something else in the room...something Carter had never felt before but had a vague notion of what it was. Drawing nearer to the voices she could sense a strong—almost overwhelming—power surging through her veins that gave her a confidence she had never felt before.

"Aw, Sam. It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wondergirl powers aren't working, huh? Now for the punch line...everybody dies," the demon threatened and Carter found herself springing from her hiding spot without a second's hesitation.

"NO!" she shouted, the demon whirling on her with the gun pointed at her stomach. For a moment Carter's eyes widened before she spun back out of the way as a shot rang out.

"CARTER!" Dean frantically yelled.

Carter was heavily pressed against the nearest column, her hand pressed painfully to her stomach. Her body shook something fierce as she removed her bloody, trembling hand from her side. It was painful just to breathe...but something was happening. Her mind was beginning to clear and the pain began to fade as another shot rang out. From the gasps she heard it must've been aimed at Jimmy.

"Waste little orphan Annie," Carter heard the demon order someone else.

"Carter?" Dean's voice worriedly came as he struggled against the demon that had a death grip on him.

With each breath Carter took, the pain subsided just a little bit more until there wasn't any and eventually something fell into her hand.

It was the bullet.

And there was no wound.

The spell Reaver gave to her had worked.

There's an angel around and its power is flowing vicariously through Carter.

But her body still shook.

She was terrified.

She had would've _died_ if it weren't for the spell.

"I'm a-alright, Dean," she stuttered, "She missed," she added more confidently.

What happened next was a mess of chaos. The demon sent to kill the little girl was suddenly taken out, the angel awakening in the girl's body. Sam and Dean quickly turned on their captors, Carter diving from her hiding spot at the one closest to Dean. Forcing his power back onto him, she sent him flying off of Dean and closer to the angel, who easily burned the demon from the vessel.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Carter let herself lean against the nearest set of pipes, Dean practically on top of her.

"Don't scare me like that!" Dean chided, briefly wrapping his arms around Carter.

An odd suctioning sound drew her attention past Dean, the sight startling her to her feet.

"Oh my God," she gasped, not hearing Dean's words as she stared in horror at Sam.

He was bowed low over the demon's neck not attempting to harm it in any way but almost appeared to be _kissing _her. Dean slowly and unsurely rose to his feet next to Carter, watching as Sam turned to face them, a layer of blood coating his face.

It was the demon's.

Carter was shaking her head with her hands clasped over her mouth in shock and Dean looked absolutely floored, unable to say or do anything but wonder if that was even his brother.

Sam turned back down to make quick work of the demon with the knife and stood. The way Sam was heavily breathing and his sharp, quick movements were enough to instill a sense of fear in Dean and he jumped when Sam held out his hand. Carter, too, was convinced he was going to attack them and let out a yelp, but then she felt a tight grasp around her arm as Dean yanked her out of the way of the fourth demon that Sam was now exorcising.

If at all possible, Dean's heart sank to the very bottom of his stomach.

That was it.

Sam's big secret.

The reason Carter could feel such a strong demonic presence in him and why he's been acting so strange the past month.

He was drinking demon blood.

What did this mean?

Had Azazel succeeded in turning Sam?

Carter and Dean both dropped down to the floor to help Jimmy's wife to her feet. When they stood, Carter avoided Sam's eye, not able to look at him. She _knew_ there was something not right with him and it was worse than she could ever imagine. Looking to Dean, she saw that he was intently glancing down at his phone. Moments later, Carter's phone buzzed and she confusedly pulled it out.

_What the?_ She frowned as she saw a message from Dean.

_Call Bobby. Now._

When Carter looked up, she met Dean's stern gaze and the emotion building up in his eyes was apparent. Carter only nodded, turning to go outside as she left Sam and Dean to handle Jimmy and his wife. It never even crossed her mind that Castiel had returned. The only thing she could think of was the way Sam looked when he turned to face her and Dean. He looked like a...monster.

"_This better be good news, girl_," Bobby's gruff voice answered on the other end.  
"We've...uh...g-got another demon problem," she got straight to the point, pinching the bridge of her nose to fight off the tears.  
"_Yeah? What's that_?" he slowly asked, not sure if he was going to like the answer.  
"It's...It's Sam, Bobby," Carter couldn't keep the emotion out of her voice anymore as her eyes welled with tears, "He's drinking demon blood to get stronger."

For a long time, there was no response as the other end fell silent.

"Bobby?" Carter wondered if he heard her, "Are you still there?"  
"_Yeah...I'm here_," the disappointment in his voice was almost too painful for Carter to hear.  
"What do we do?" she quietly asked.  
"_Bring 'im to my place. We'll...just have to...let it run out of his system. Put 'im in the panic room_," he unsurely suggested.

This time both ends fell silent as they tried to cope with what they were about to do.

"He'll know. If we just go, he'll know," Carter shook her head, wiping the unshed tears from her eyes.  
"_Then I'll call one a 'ya for help with the apocalypse_," he somewhat cynically said.  
"Sorry," Carter mumbled, "Thanks Bobby."

With a deep, heavy sigh Carter hung up, turning to come face to face with Castiel, now back in Jimmy's body. He was standing very close to her, simply eyeing her up with a judgmental eye. It didn't take long for Carter to see that something was different.

"C-Cas?" she nervously asked as he looked at her with a certain look of disdain.  
"Carter," he flatly replied.

"Come on, Carter," Dean's voice came from behind her, his warm presence protectively pressed against her back as he placed both his hands over her shoulders. The angel's prying eyes never left hers as Dean steered her back toward the Impala. Castiel's gaze was unwavering and clearly said that he—like all the other angels—had turned against her too.

At the car, Carter saw that Sam was already buckled into the passenger seat, anxiously waiting for Dean to return. She was about to hop in the back when Dean suddenly stopped her.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you were back there?" he said, voice low with unabashed anger.  
"I..." Carter started to defend herself but stopped when she realized she really didn't have anything to say, "I'm sorry," she hung her head, ready for a berating from the elder Winchester.

"Why do you never listen to me, Carter? You _always_ have to do the opposite of everything I say! For _once_, stop acting like a spoiled brat and do what you're told! I mean you were almost _killed_, Carter!"

"You think I don't _know_ that?" she suddenly snapped, giving him a sharp shove, "Yeah, I get it. I was dumb! But you guys were in trouble and needed my help! Why do _you_ always insist on being my father, _Dean_? I'm tired of you bossing me around and telling me what I can and can't do, how I should and shouldn't act! It's getting really old, really fast."

Carter didn't even care to hear what he had to say in reply. She just wrenched open the back door and scrambled into the backseat, folding her arms across her chest in a fuming huff. Carter's mind was working in overdrive and couldn't calm it down.

Dean. Sam. Cas. Todd. Logan.

So many different people were running through her mind and she couldn't stop it. Everything was falling apart around her and she didn't know how to handle it.

Dean clenched his jaw, furiously punching the air before clambering into the driver's seat, annoyed that he was on Carter's bad side once more.

Risking a small glance at Sam, Dean slightly shuddered. What Sam did...the way he looked _doing_ it...he was like an animal...a _monster_. That blatant, feral, glint in Sam's eyes was certainly enough to give Dean nightmares. Dean just couldn't figure out how his brother had gone so far off the rails...

Or worse...

Could he even be saved?

Carter normally sat behind Sam in the Impala, but the vibes the demon blood inside him were so strong that she could hardly stand it. So she sat huddled against the door behind Dean. Though Sam had no idea where their next destination was, Carter knew Dean was already heading northwest to Sioux Falls. And though the car ride was utterly silent, it was not tense. Sam was a bit jittery expecting something to happen but it just never did. Carter had nothing to say to him and neither did Dean.

What was there to even say?

Carter was terrified. Anything she _would_ say would just anger him and provoke an attack.

He wasn't the Sam she first met.

She didn't even know who this person was.

"Alright," Sam suddenly broke the silence, making Carter jump in the backseat, "Let's hear it."  
"What?" Dean coolly answered.  
"Dropped a bomb, man. You saw what I did. Come on, stop the car, take a swing."

The pride in Sam's voice was all Carter could hear.

Did he even know that what he was doing was wrong?

And Dean didn't miss it either.

They had to approach this carefully...it was Sam's life on the line.

"I'm not gonna take a swing," Dean sadly shook his head.  
"Then scream, chew me out," Sam instigated him.  
"I'm not mad, Sam," Dean flatly told him.  
"Come on. You're not mad?" it was more of a statement than a question.  
"No," Dean quietly reported, not invested in this discussion.  
"Right. At least let me explain myself," Sam offered, just waiting for the opportunity to show them both that he's right in what he's doing.

"Don't," Dean cut him off immediately, "I don't care."

He was tired.

Carter couldn't be more sure. He was tired and stressed and she suddenly felt guilty knowing that she had a part to play in that.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm disappointed? Yeah, I am but mostly I'm just tired, man. And I'm done. I am just done," he sorely admitted.

Dean had literally gone through Hell to save his brother. He's done anything he could ever do to steer his little brother in the right direction and he couldn't do it this time. Sam has fought him every step of the way and Dean simply can't take it anymore.

If this thing at Bobby's doesn't work...

"Hey, Bobby," Sam picked up his ringing phone.

Carter swallowed a huge lump in her throat, meeting Dean's gaze in the mirror briefly before dropping her gaze to her fidgeting hands.

"What he say?" Dean asked as Sam clicked off his phone.  
"He said he's got a big demon problem. Something related to the apocalypse," he said, "He wants us there asap."  
"Let's go then," Carter spoke up, poking her head up front, "We haven't dealt with any seals in a while."

The lie just felt so awful on her tongue and when she looked to Sam for reassurance she nearly lost it.

"Sit back," Dean nudged her with his elbow, waiting for her to buckle up before he pressed his foot harder on the gas.

If the car ride wasn't tense before, it certainly was now, making the drive to Bobby's almost unbearable. Each hunter was left to their own torturous thoughts. Even when they finally made it to Bobby's and stepped out of the car, the air was still thick. Sam was glad to take charge and led the way to the house where Bobby was waiting for them on the porch. Each step up to the house was harder than the last for Dean as he brought up the rear, hesitating when he reached the front door. Just inside the door, Carter noticed Dean's absence and stepped back through the door.

She didn't say anything, just looked at him and waited. He met her gaze, looking into her eyes for some kind of reassurance. It was there, clear as day, in her dark blue eyes and he found the confidence to finish the job.

It was as if everything else went in slow motion from there. Dean was hollow and mechanical as he moved through Bobby's house, barely even hearing what Bobby was saying. His body went numb to everything around him as Sam stepped forward into the demon-proofed panic room. Then he felt something warm press against his side. Briefly tearing his eyes away from his troubled brother he glanced to his left, looking to Carter. Her hand curled around the fabric of his jacket and it gave him that last little push he needed.

"So uh, what's the big demon problem?" Sam asked, unaware that none of them had followed.  
"You are," Dean replied, the three hunters swinging the iron door hard on its hinges to effectively lock Sam in the room.


	35. Chapter 34

**Firstly, thank you to Carver Edlund and ThirdRateRockStar who reviewed for the last chapter and thank you to everyone else who has subscribed either to this story or my account! Second note, I apologize for the relatively short chapter. It just ended at such a perfect place that I didn't want to ruin it by trying to extend the length just for length's sake. **

**So, anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

For a while Sam was just angry and let his anger be known.

But then the hallucinations started.

And the screams became cries of pain that shook Dean to the core. Both he and Bobby were well into a bottle of whiskey by nightfall, Sam's screams being too much for Carter who had yet to return from outside.

Then Rufus called, telling Bobby that the seals were breaking fast and the angels were nowhere to be seen. Bobby had been convinced they should let Sam out.

_Let_ him use his demon mojo on Lilith.

_Let_ him turn into a monster.

The worst part was...Dean was beginning to agree.

But could he let Sam continue down a path that was sure to change him forever?

Dean had never been more conflicted.

And then he remembered that he didn't have to decide alone. And he found himself searching out the short brunette that had been on his mind almost nonstop for the past few weeks.

He found her out back, tensely reclining on the hood of the Mustang she once was determined to rebuild. From where he stood on the porch, Dean could see that she was mulling over something on her mind, her gaze absentmindedly staring out at the junk yard, her body completely still, her jaw tensely clenched and it looked almost as if she were fighting off some tears.

She hadn't seen him yet and Dean was content to just watch for a few more peaceful moments. Carter was truthfully unlike any other woman Dean had known. God knows there are parts of her he absolutely cannot _stand_...but she had this way of burrowing into his heart and making him care about her.

Making him want to be around her.

To hold her.

To kiss her.

"I could sense it," she spoke as Dean strode over to the car from his place on the porch. Dean's heart tightened at how strained and quiet her voice sounded.

"I could _feel_ the demon blood inside him...I should have seen it," she confessed, turning her head to look at him with the tears brimming in her eyes, making them shimmer in the moonlight.

"Carter—"

"I was just so _angry_ at him for taking advantage of me that I hadn't noticed the way he was acting! How strung out he was, how the demon blood was changing him!" she fought off the tears so hard but wasn't able to control the few that tumbled down her cheeks, "I could have _done_ something."

Dean couldn't help it.

He suddenly placed both hands on the either side of her face and brought her lips to his. He never wanted her to feel that way, to feel like it was _her_ fault Sam was off the rails. She shouldn't have to feel that way...he wanted to make her feel better.

So he kissed her.

And in all honesty it was probably to make _himself _feel better too.

His move wasn't exactly the smoothest but she stopped crying nonetheless and he was relieved when she didn't slap him as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her cheeks.

"None of this is your fault, Carter, don't think for one second that it is," he gently told her, sweeping her hair out of her face and wiping away the trail of tears with his thumb.

"No," she drew away from him, down casting her eyes, "But I didn't help either."

Dean let out an understanding sigh. Nothing he would say would change Carter's mind and he could get that. If she had tried to convince _him_ that what happened to Sam wasn't his fault, she would have just as difficult a time. Instead, Dean nestled into the side of the Mustang and joined in Carter's gaze at the junk yard.

"Bobby wants to let Sam out," he spoke after a few quiet minutes.  
"What?" Carter sharply looked at him, "W-why?"  
"The seals are breaking fast, Carter," Dean met her frantic stare, "...Sam, he..."  
"You can't be serious, Dean? Just look at how he's acted since you guys took me in. He went from sweet and normal to twisted and neurotic."

The harshness of her words—as true as they were—made Dean wince.

"In what world is drinking _demon's_ blood considered _noble_?" she shook her head.  
"As opposed to a _spell_ that controls demons?" Dean fired back before he realized what he was saying. Carter immediately frowned, glowering at him a moment before jumping off the hood of the car.

"Carter, wait," he spun her back around, his hand sliding over her waist, "You know I did—"

But he cut himself short...frowning when he felt a tear in her jacket...a tear that went through her hoodie as well as her t-shirt until he could feel the skin of her abdomen...where Dean _swore_ he saw the bullet hit...

Jaw clenched tightly shut, Dean stared down at Carter, seeing a flicker of panic move through her eyes as she tried to avoid his stare. More aggressively this time, Dean yanked her back and squared her hips in front of him, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

"You said she missed," he spoke through gritted teeth.

Carter breathed a hesitant sigh before she answered, "She...didn't miss—"

"Carter, if you don't start explaining..." he demanded.

"Ok! Ok! I was at the airport when that damn _Reaver_ blindsided me! He..." Carter didn't know how to phrase this next part because any way she would say it would only piss Dean off, "He knows the angels are turning against me so he...gave me a spell. The one I told you about...the one that controls angels."

"And you _used_ it?" he bellowed, furiously turning away from her and running his fingers through his hair.  
"Yeah I used it. And it saved my ass," she defensively retorted, "That demon bitch shot me and because Cas was around I could use his power to heal myself!"

"Boy, Carter, you have done some stupid, _ignorant_ things before but this takes the whole _damn_ cake!" he rounded on her again.  
"Why? Dean, I can control angels! _Use_ their power!" she tried to get him to see her side.  
"That's exactly my point! The angels think you're a double-agent! How do you think this is going to look to them! You took a spell from a _demon_, a spell that can _kill_ angels? How fucking stupid are you, Carter!"

"Hey! I was just trying to help! You just _abandoned_ me! Then you text me saying 'trouble, stay away,' like you just expect me to leave you two to die! What the fuck, Dean?" she roared back.

"We were fine without your _help_! Cas was there, he would've smoked those mooks either way! And now look what you've done! Do you even_ know_ the full effects of that spell? Did-did the demon slyly make a deal? What's he going to ask for in _return_? Why did he give it to you in the _first place_? How are the _angels_ going to react? Did you think about ANY of this when you used that spell?"

Carter's face grew warm from being backed into a corner because—truthfully—she hadn't considered any of it.

"You just HAD to go and take matters into your own hands, didn't you! Dammit, Carter! As if we didn't have enough to deal with, with Sam locked up in the basement, now this?"

"STOP IT!" she finally screamed, "Just STOP! Stop PRETENDING to care about me! Stop PRETENDING to be my guardian! You need to learn when to back the _fuck_ off and stop looking over my shoulder with everything I do!"

Dean snorted, tossing his hands up in the air, "Oh here we go _again_! You're a selfish little brat, you know that? What's it going to take to get you to realize that this is all NOT about you! Look where it's gotten us! Sam is chained up in the basement like a _monster_! You even said it yourself! You were _so _self-absorbed that you hadn't bothered to notice!"

Dean recognized it was a low blow, using her own words against her in a pathetic jab, but he was just so tired of having all this stress dumped on him...the words just flew out.

Carter swallowed hard, forcing back the emotion building behind her eyes, "Right because you never did a _thing_ to push him towards _Ruby_," she spat knowing it would have an impact, "Your own brother turned to a _demon_ for comfort."

Her words were so biting Dean didn't really register them, only saying the first thing that came to mind, "At least Sam never tried to _murder_ me in cold blood which is certainly more than I can say for Todd."

Carter didn't even say a thing; she just glared at him in fuming silence for a couple seconds before stomping away back toward the house.

"Yeah, that's right, Carter. Walking away solves EVERYTHING!" he shouted after her and was only slightly surprised when she came back out...then he saw her duffel secured in her hand.

"Leaving again, are we?" he icily smirked.  
"Damn straight I am!" she yelled, tossing the duffel in the trunk, "I don't need you breathing down my neck at every fucking moment. Don't you _dare_ try finding me."  
"Believe me, I won't," he hissed.  
"Then feel free to lose my number, asshole," she slammed the driver-side door shut, nearly reversing into him.

Dean watched the silver car speed down the dirt path to the road, never once feeling bad that he didn't try to stop her.


	36. Chapter 35

Battered, exhausted, and alone, Carter stumbled into her simple motel room after a long few days of hunting a poltergeist in Chicago. In those days after her separation from the Winchesters, Carter had heard nothing from the Winchesters. It made her wonder if Dean has thought about coming after her, though, she certainly wasn't jonesing to go back any time soon.

Leaving was the right thing to do.

At least...that's what she kept telling herself.

She carelessly dropped her duffel on the chair and remembered to salt the door and window before jumping into bed without bothering to change. The poltergeist she fought off did a number on her, flailing her all around the house. So even the smallest movements made the poor girl wince. Hunting without backup was going to take some getting used to.

"You know, you ought to check your place before you salt yourself in."

Carter screamed at the voice, leaping from her bed and whipping out the first weapon she could find which only was the nearest lamp. In the far corner of the room, Reaver emerged from the shadows.

"What th—how d—Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" she roared, her heart pounding so violently that she could hear it in her head.  
"Easy, darling," he cooed, reclining on her bed, "A little bird told me you and your lover had quite the falling out. Came to see for myself if it was true."  
"Well it is, now _leave_," she slammed the lamp back down on the nightstand.

"What could have caused such a nasty divorce, I wonder?" he cruelly grinned, rising back to his feet.  
"You _planned_ for me to ditch the Winchester's?" she incredulously asked, angrily crossing her arms over her chest.  
"Course not, that was just a happy mistake," he insisted, swiping the TV guide from the desk.

"Why the hell do you keep bothering me?" Carter demanded, ripping the guide from his hands.  
"Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you, love, you're more important—"  
"To the apocalypse than I realize! Yes I _know_! But that's not exactly descriptive now is it!" she snapped.

He narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed that she disrupted him.

"Fine," he quipped, reclining back on the bed, "I suppose it _is_ time for some answers."  
"Damn straight," she muttered, crossly leaning against the wall.

"'The righteous man who begins it is the only man who can finish it and the one sacrificed holds the path to redemption.' I reckon this sounds familiar?" he recited.

Carter had forgotten about that prophecy. With everything else going on, she had forgotten that she's supposed to help Dean stop the apocalypse. An insurmountable amount of guilt weighed down Carter's shoulders as she realized what a mistake she made.

Dean was right. They were in this together and it wasn't just about her. The gravity of the seals and the apocalypse hadn't hit Carter until now. It was really happening and no amount of sarcasm or denial could change that. And she just left.

"It's why Cas rescued me and Dean from the pit," she quietly replied.  
"Yes and it's also why the angels have turned against you."

She frowned.

"What? But...we're going to stop the apocalypse. W-why would the angels turn against me for that?" she shook her head.  
"Because _you_ are the key to redemption," he pointed at her, a wicked glint in his eye.  
"Redemption for who?" Carter asked recognizing the ambiguity in Reaver's statement.

"Whoever _you_ choose," he informed her, placing both his hands on her shoulders, "And they already know you won't include them. What with, _Uriel_ turning your brother against you and all that. No, they've decided to take it into their own hands."

What Reaver said was true, Carter could understand that but she could also understand that he wasn't helping her out of the goodness of his heart. She wasn't stupid, a little naïve at times of course, but not stupid.

"And what is it _you_ plan to do, _I wonder_?" she spat, mocking Reaver in a faux accent and crossing back to her duffel.  
"Helping _you_, remember. That spell saved your life, did it not?" he tried placating her building fury.  
"No, YOU remember! Logan and Tania are DEAD because of you! You TRICKED me into breaking a seal and took away my power! I could've saved them!" she screamed.

"And I gave it back," he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, none too bothered by her anger.  
"THEN KILLED L—" Carter cut herself short, coming to a grave realization.

When she walked into her room, Reaver was there...but she couldn't sense him, a _demon_. The poltergeist got the jump on her when she should've sensed that too. It was gone. She hadn't noticed it until now. Her sensitivity to all things supernatural was gone.

From across the room, Reaver saw this epiphany sweep across her face and when her eyes met his, he knew no amount of mollifying was going to curb her rage.

"What did you _do_?" she hissed in a low whisper.  
"Best you heard the truth," he sighed, trying to play it cool, "When you used the spell to control the angels, it reversed the spell you used in Hell."

Carter's hands balled into fists and her eyes clenched tightly shut. The demon had completely fooled her, played on her feelings for the Winchesters to get her to use the spell that would only aggravate the angels and make her more vulnerable to the demons.

"Stupid," Carter cursed to herself, turning her back on Reaver and bracing herself against the chair that contained her duffel.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, love, we all make mistakes," he said, almost breathing a sigh of relief.

_"Boy, Carter, you have done some stupid, ignorant things before but this takes the whole damn cake!" he rounded on her again.  
__"Why? Dean, I can control angels! Use their power!" she tried to get him to see her side. _

_"That's exactly my point! The angels think you're a double-agent! How do you think this is going to look to them! You took a spell from a demon, a spell that can kill angels? Do you even know the full effects of that spell? Did-did the demon slyly make a deal? What's he going to ask for in return? Why did he give it to you in the first place? How are the angels going to react? Did you think about ANY of this when you used that spell?"_

Dean was right. Reaver had played her right from the beginning. He made her break a seal, killed Logan, took her powers so she couldn't save Tania, fed her lies about the angel spell, and separated her from Dean. He manipulated her ass six ways from Sunday and she was stupid enough to believe him.

Opening her eyes, Carter saw the one thing that would end it all.

"Well this is one that _I _don't have to live with anymore."

Reaver didn't even see it coming. One minute her back was turned to him and then next she had whirled around with that enchanted pistol of hers drawn, the bullet already embedded in his skull. The demon inside the vessel screamed in agony as that little girl sent him to Purgatory, once and for all.

A small, strangled cry came from Carter's throat as she stared at the body now on the floor of her motel room. It wasn't one of fear or sadness, but a cry of relief and closure. When she saw Reaver's body crash to the ground, it was like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, one that had been there since she watched Logan die. His death—and Tania's—was avenged. And Carter no longer had to endure that bastard demon's mind games.

_Ramble on! And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song._

The sound of the Led Zeppelin ringtone startled Carter from her mindless reverie and she answered the call without a glance to see who it was.

"Hel-hello," she answered in an audibly emotional voice.  
"_Ahm...it's-it's me_," Dean's voice slowly came from the other end and Carter didn't miss the stress that lined it.  
"Dean," she said in an almost relieved tone.  
"_Are you alright? Y-you sound upset,_" he danced around the real reason for his call.

Carter briefly glanced at Reaver's final vessel as she let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah. Yeah, no, believe it or not I'm doing alright. Um why-why'd you call?"

Even over the phone they were both awkward and nervous to speak to each other after what happened just a few days ago. Stuttering, stumbling over their words...it was almost like they just had a breakup or something.

"_It's Sam, Carter_," Dean sighed, "_He got out somehow._"

Carter couldn't help but notice how upset—how miserable—Dean sounded. It just ate away at her heart.

"_I need your help, Carter. I-I need you to come back_," he confessed with another sigh.

She was silent for a few moments, mulling about those words in her mind. He needed her, _Dean_ needed her. She really didn't even have to think about it, she just knew she was going to go back.

"Of course," she softly replied but then cleared her throat and spoke with more confidence, starting to pack her things, "I'll be right there."  
"_Right...well Bobby thinks Sam is in Cold Spring, Minnesota and I hope to God Ruby is with him because I am not leaving that town until she's dead. Where are you now?_" Dean finally found his voice.

"South Side of Chicago, near the University," she said.  
"_That's about nine hours,_" he muttered more to himself than to Carter.  
"I'll get there as soon as I can, Dean," she reassured him, casting a sideways glance at the body on the floor, "There's something I have to take care of first."

"_Right, right. I'll meet you where I think Sam is held up. I'll text you the address,_" he determined.  
"Got it," she nodded, just about to hang up when Dean stopped her.  
"_And uh...listen, Carter...about what happened...what I said—_"  
"I know, Dean...me too," she allowed herself a small smile.

Dean uncomfortably cleared his throat, "_Right...get a move on already. I've got a demon bitch to gank."  
_"So, _demanding_, Lancelot," she quipped back with a small chuckle before hanging up.

So Sam had escaped and he certainly didn't do it on his own.

Carter stared down at Reaver's body.

Redemption.

_They've decided to take it into their own hands_

A disturbing thought crossed her mind as she disposed of the body and made her way north to Minnesota...

What if the angels _wanted_ Sam to turn?

* * *

_Honeymoon Suite_

Carter had to check, re-check, and check again that text message from Dean because she just didn't understand it and now he wasn't answering his phone. Truth be told, Carter was nervous as she entered the gaudy hotel with nothing on her but her pistol. She was used to having the luxury of her power to tell her when something supernatural was around. With that power gone, she felt blind and naked, a tough feeling to cope with when fighting demons.

The hotel hallways were eerily empty as Carter sought out the suite and she was taken completely off guard as a firm hand clamped over her mouth and stole her away into the nearest utility closet.

"Why weren't you answering your phone?" she rounded on and hissed at Dean.  
"Was on silent," he pulled it out and cleared all her missed calls, "Sorry."

She mustered up a glare as she tried to calm her furiously beating heart but then she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. The move didn't surprise Dean and he was grateful for the gesture, securing his arms around her waist in response.

"So where are they?" she asked, drawing back.  
"Couple doors down," Dean jerked his head in the direction, not once taking his eyes from Carter.  
"Let's go then," she nodded turning to lead the way.

"Wait, Carter," Dean caught her hand before she left.  
"What's wrong?" she frowned, not really noticing the gentle hold Dean still had on her hand.  
"Whatever happens in there...just promise that you'll stay out of it, as much as possible," he beseeched her, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Then, why did you want me to come back?" she shook her head not understanding.  
"Just _please_...just this once...listen to me?" he asked, bringing his other hand up to her cheek, "None of this is on you. It's between me and Sam...and...things are probably going to get hairy...But...no matter what he says or does...leave it to me, ok?"

The gentle warmth that his hand brought on her face—if not the tortured, desperate tone in his voice—was enough to make her comply.

"Ok, Dean," she nodded, worried at that tone and what it meant.  
"Ok," he mirrored her nod, "Let's go then."

They waited until Sam left the room before they struck. Dean charged in first, nearly losing it when he saw Ruby packing up Sam's things but he got a good swing at her before she fought him off. Then Carter came in, catching the demon by surprise as she clipped her with her pistol. But, Carter, too was fought off, allowing Dean an opportunity to attack. He had the shot, Ruby was distracted and defenseless, but out of nowhere, Sam showed up and wrestled the knife from Dean's hand.

Only, this didn't stop Ruby from attacking Carter, slamming the young girl into the wall.

"Hey, hey!" Sam yelled above the two as Ruby quickly got the upper hand, knocking away Carter's pistol before Sam pulled her away. Carter stumbled to her feet with a little help from Dean, coldly glaring at demon.

"Just take it easy, all right?" Sam tried to diffuse the tension.  
"Well, it must've been some party you two had going, considering how hard you tried to keep me from crashing it. Well, solid try but, here we are," Dean announced, his voice laced with anger.  
"Dean, I'm glad you're here," Sam sighed, "Let's just talk about this."

It was obvious to Carter that something was not right about Sam. His tone was arrogant, condescending. He clearly had another hit of demon blood and was riding some kind of high. It was like Dean was just talking to a brick wall. Sam had his mind made up and nothing was going to change it.

"Ruby, get out of here," Sam instructed but Carter instantly jumped in her way as Sam held Dean back.

"You really wanna do round two? Especially without your super-special powers?" Ruby sneered.  
"Betcha that arm of yours is stinging pretty bad right about now," Carter retorted, referring the bullet wound in the demon's shoulder.

"Carter, let her pass," Sam ordered, garnering a frown from the younger hunter. Carter looked past Sam to Dean, who clearly did not want Ruby to leave but also didn't want to see Carter hurt.

"Let her go, Carter," Dean nodded.

Carter breathed a frustrated sigh, stepping aside but she wasn't about to let the demon go without a parting gift. Ramming the demon into the doorframe, Carter dealt a heavy blow to her gut, digging her thumb into the bullet wound.

"That's for attacking me, bitch," she growled, before slamming the door shut.

"She's poison, Sam!" Dean pointed to the door Carter now stood idly by as he vented. It was a heartbreaking scene to witness. Carter's never seen Dean so close to the edge. He was pleading so hard with Sam who just wouldn't have any of it.

Sam was too prideful, his mind totally warped by Ruby. Carter saw it and Dean saw it too. He was trying—Carter saw—he was trying so hard to get his brother to come back. But Sam was too convinced he was right and was just getting antsier and antsier by the second. His body was beginning to shake and his speech was becoming more rapid. The signals he was sending out put Carter on edge and she drifted closer to Dean, stopping when he held out his hand to her.

"For once, trust _me_," Sam begged, nearly out of breath.

Dean shook his head, the tears brimming in his eyes, "No. You don't know what you're doing Sam."

"Yes. I do!"  
"Then that's worse!"  
"Why? I'm telling you—" Sam breathed.  
"Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means..." but Dean couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to have to face what had happened to his brother, what had happened despite all his efforts to protect him.

"It means you're a monster," Dean finally said.

Carter couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe these two had drifted so far apart. She watched as Sam—the guy who treated her so well—was lost beyond all reason and Dean—the guy who was always so strong and stony—was at his wits end, crying openly.

Then, all of a sudden, Sam lashed out at Dean, punching him so hard that Dean stumbled back over the edge of the bed.

"Dean!" Carter yelled, starting forward but he held up his hand again.

"Stay out of it, Carter," he reminded her, looking at nothing but Sam. She nodded, nervously looking to Sam who had nothing but hatred in his eyes as he glared at Dean. The look brought a chill to Carter's spine and she ducked out of the way as Dean retaliated, quickly backing Sam into the wall with a few hard punches.

Sam fought back with even greater intensity, upping the brutality of what was once a simple argument. Stand by and watch? How could Dean ask so much of her? It was making her nauseous, watching them beat the snot out of each other. She and Dean had fought, but there was never this much repressed anger being unleashed.

"Guys..." she tried to settle things down but neither of them heard her. And then Sam smashed Dean's face into the mirror.

"SAM!" she screamed, stepping between the two to end this. Only, Sam took it as a threat and threw her whole body against the desk, her head cracking against the corner, knocking her senseless.

"Carter!" Dean called out, getting back on his feet throwing another punch at Sam.

"Dean, no," Carter lamely protested, her vision swimming all around but she watched as Sam dodged the blow, flinging his brother through the divider wall, Dean's body crashing through the glass table.

"Sam!" Carter warned again, trying to shake the fuzziness from her head. Dean had had the wind knocked out of him and was coughing, trying to get some kind of airflow into his lungs. And Sam, he still had that look in his eyes, and lashed out again, clamping his hands over Dean's neck.

"SAM!" Carter bellowed again, "SAM, STOP IT! YOU'RE CHOKING HIM!"

But he didn't stop and Dean couldn't defend himself. Carter struggled to her feet, lunging at Sam and tackling him off his brother, getting a couple good hits in before Sam finally wrestled her small form off of him.

"You don't know me," Sam panted, "You never did...and you never will."

Salty tears streaming down her cheeks, Carter slowly crawled her way across the floor to Dean, her ribs screaming in pain and her head throbbing with every heartbeat. She would be ready to defend herself or Dean if Sam attacked again but was relieved when he started toward the door.

"If you walk out that door, don't you _ever_ come back," Dean wheezed, still trying to catch his breath. Carter expectantly looked up to Sam, who looked back at her and then at Dean before turning his back and slamming the door shut behind him.

"He...h-he left," Carter whispered to herself, not believing he just walked right out after trying to _kill_ his own brother. Looking down to Dean, Carter swallowed the lump in her throat, running her hands over his battered face.

"Ju-just stay down for a second," she gently rolled Dean on to his back as he tried to move to his side. He was in pain and didn't care that the tears were tumbling down his face. He listened to Carter anyway.

"Just breathe, Dean, breathe for a few minutes," she instructed, sweeping his hair back and still looking at the door as if expecting Sam to walk back in and apologize.

"He's...not coming...back," Dean said after seeing Carter stare at the door.

And he never did.

"Come on," Carter choked out and looked down at him, trying to hold back her tears, "We have to go. Someone will have heard all that."

But neither she nor Dean were ready to even get off the floor. With Carter's help, Dean was able to sit up and as soon as he did, he pulled Carter into his body, his arm tightly wrapped around her and his face buried in her shoulder. Carter held him, soothingly running her hand up and down his back, letting her own tears drip onto his jacket.

It was then Carter knew that coming back was the right thing to do.


	37. Chapter 36

**Sorry it took so long my dear readers but here's the next chapter! It's on the short side because I was stuck in a writer's block but things should hopefully begin flowing again. **

**By the way, what are your thoughts on the season 7 finale?**

* * *

"We'll get him back. We'll call him, we'll follow him, or something. We'll call Bobby," Carter raved, dropping her duffel in their new room after they bailed the honeymoon suite. Carter hadn't stopped talking, sounding almost hysterical and Dean was slightly convinced it was because she had a concussion. He on the other hand hadn't spoken a word since Sam left in part due to the fact that breathing itself hurt and he couldn't imagine talking and partly due to the fact that he was angry and betrayed and just had nothing to say.

He was in the middle of a swig of whisky from his flask when Carter tore it from his hands. He was going to berate her for it but then watched as she poured the rest down her throat.

"I mean, what do we do from here? Where do we go?" she frantically looked to him.  
"Obliteration," he swiped a beer from one of the coolers they had brought in from the Impala.  
"No. Stop!" she furiously shook her head, frantically pacing in front of him, "We need to _do_ something. There has to be something we can do. We can't just _sit_ here!"

Dean was beginning to think she took a few more pulls from his flask when he wasn't looking. _His_ head was certainly foggy and it was—in all likelihood—contributing to his bitter indifference.

Eventually, Carter calmed herself down enough to crawl onto the bed, wincing as she pressed her hand to the side of her head.

"Your head okay?" Dean asked, sauntering over to her.  
"Hm? Yeah, fine. It's just a bump," she replied with a certain enthusiasm that told Dean she was most certainly buzzed.

"You could use a Band-Aid," she looked up at him.

She was completely serious but Dean couldn't help but chuckle, touching his fingers to the many cuts and nicks on his face.

"Yeah...I probably could," he nodded with a small smile, "Care to help me out, Doc?"

With a small nod, Carter edged herself off the bed, leading the way into the bathroom. Folding his arms across his chest, Dean leaned up against the counter as he waited for Carter to pull out the first aid.

"Down," she swatted at his arms and stood between his legs to dab the gauze over the cuts on his face. Carter was quiet as she did her best to wipe away the caked-on blood and sweat above his eye and on his cheek.

"Chin up," she instructed, tilting his head so that she could come at the cut on his chin at a better angle. Dean's foot suddenly slipped, his hands reaching out to Carter's hips as he tried to balance himself. His motion sent her body stumbling forward so that she was now using Dean to keep her on her feet.

"Honestly," she rolled her eyes, standing up a little straighter; Dean's hands sliding a bit lower to the back of her thighs.  
"How's it look?" he asked, feeling the gauze brush over his lips.  
"Congratulations, you don't need stitches," she wryly announced.  
"Lucky me," he stood, taking Carter off guard as he picked her up by the hips, swinging her around and setting her on the counter, "Now let me take a look at that bump on your head."

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," she let out a slightly irritated sigh. Dean just ignored her with a small smirk, placing one hand on the side of her face and the other sweeping back her hair to examine the bump. The skin was a bit raised, surrounded by a good deal of brusing but it didn't look like she broke skin.

"Your neck's bruised," she quietly observed, her fingers smoothing over the faint purple marks on Dean's throat and neck. Her gentle touch sent chills down his spine and he relished in that feeling. But that simple touch, even if combined with the effects of alcohol, was not enough to make Dean forget the sting of betrayal Sam caused and he pulled her hand down, abruptly walking out of the bathroom.

Carter breathed another sigh and followed Dean out into the room, finding him with his face buried in his hands as he sat on the end of the bed. She curled up next to him, soothingly running her hand up and down his back.

"Dean, I'm sorry," she softly said, meaning it more than ever.

He didn't respond right away. He just stayed that way for a little longer before eventually bringing his head up to look at her.

"Is this what it what like? When Todd left?" he wondered, looking straight into her eyes.

A heavy sigh passed her lips as she thought back to that night. Todd would have killed her if it weren't for the Winchesters. But...Todd wasn't her best friend. They had separate lives when they were younger and then she died. When she came back she had only been with Todd a few months. Yes, Todd was her brother...and that betrayal certainly hurt...but...what Sam and Dean had...

Carter couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Dean was going through.

"Todd and I...we never had what you and Sam did...but...I can imagine that the loneliness you feel...it's like a black hole swallowing up everything good you have ever felt and you don't think you can trust anyone ever again. You want to punch something, hurt someone do _something_ to make someone pay, but there's nothing you can do," she raved, Dean wondering how she could know exactly the way he felt.

"I know," she sadly looked at him, "That's how I felt when Logan died...and in a way, I suppose, you've lost Sam."

Dean just gazed at her, only one thing running through his mind.

"Why did you come back?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "You asked me to," answering as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then she dropped her gaze to her hands feeling her cheeks warm with shame.

"And...you were right...about everything," she confessed, not able to meet his eyes, "The angel spell took away my other one. And that son of bitch demon knew it...I'm so stupid," she shook her head, feeling the shame manifest itself into tears.

"Sometimes," Dean shrugged, garnering a small smile and chuckle from her, "But I'd say you're more naïve than stupid. You're usually just trying to help."  
"Doesn't change the fact I'm completely useless now," she wiped away her tears but stopped when she felt Dean gently turn her head.  
"You're not useless and you're not stupid," he firmly told her.

Carter's head was in a fog and Dean's words didn't quite register in her mind. One minute they were talking, and the next Dean's lips were firmly pressed to hers, lulling her into a sense of calm that overtook her entire body. His hand swept down the side of her face and he tilted his head to ease into a stronger kiss, their tongues colliding with a lustful vigor. Carter returned the eager gesture, sinking her fingers into the firmness of his chest and pulling him closer. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as Dean hovered over her small frame and relaxed her back onto the bed, his hand tracing a delicate pattern up the side of her body. But it was when his hand dipped underneath the fabric of her shirt that she flipped him over and stopped his transgression.

Dean didn't say anything. He just kind of looked at her, wondering why she stopped so suddenly. He noticed that she was trembling slightly, contemplatively chewing at her lower lip like she always did when she was nervous.

"What's wrong?" he frowned, sitting himself up.  
"Why-why do you keep kissing me?" she hesitantly asked.

The question took Dean by surprise. He didn't really know how to respond. He didn't really know the answer she was looking for and, to be honest, he didn't quite know the answer himself.

"Well, I uh...I guess I...I don't really know actually," he unsurely told her.  
"There's got to be a reason," she slightly shook her head.

Dean wasn't quite sure what she was trying to insinuate, if anything.

"Well of course there's a reason. If you haven't noticed, Carter, you've got a pretty rockin' bod," he said without really thinking and he certainly didn't miss the slight frown that passed her lips, "Why? Don't you like kissing me?"

"Yes I do but," she frantically started, her cheeks growing pink, "But..."  
"But what?"  
"I don't, want to be another Dean Winchester conquest," she slowly said, not knowing how else to say it, "I'm a hunter, Dean, not a challenge. I think I forgot that somewhere along the way and got kind of wrapped up in it."

"I don't think I'm following," he shook his head, trying to understand what she was saying.  
"Just...please don't kiss me again unless there's something more behind it," she said, climbing off the bed and out into the night.

Dean watched her walk out the door with a slight twinge in his stomach. He didn't know if she was leaving him or just going to sober up in the cold air. She hadn't seemed mad just a bit unsettled. Making a move on Carter hadn't been his brightest idea of the night but it seemed like a good one, considering...

Carter frustratingly wiped the salty tears from her cheeks as she stormed across the parking lot. She wasn't mad at Dean by any means, just more pissed at herself for being stupid. It just amazed her that she let herself get wrapped up by that man when she had known all along that he was a womanizer. She had no deep rooted feelings for him but just fell for his suave, debonair act. It was embarrassing in a way. Carter was a professional. These past few months, she may not have been acting like it but she would be damned if she forgot her purpose again.

Sam, the apocalypse, the angels. It's all so much bigger than her and it's taken until now for her to understand.

"Carter."

Her heart jumped into her throat as she spun around to meet the owner of the voice.

"Cas," she gasped, taking several obvious steps backwards.

He merely stared at her with a certain look of disdain that unsettled the already troubled girl.

"W-what do you want?" she nervously asked, despite being able to feel his angelic power flowing throughout her body, "Are you going to kill me?"  
"No," he firmly answered.  
"Then why are you here?" she wondered.  
"To give you a fair warning. The angels still need you to help stop the apocalypse. But hear this: the power you have, if you use it in anyway against our cause, we will strike you where you stand," he threatened, closing the gap between them, "Do you understand?"

Carter could only muster a small nod.

"Good. I will be watching very closely," he turned to walk away.

Carter knew she should be grateful that the angels were showing her mercy but that same spontaneity that made her question Dean, made her stop the angel from leaving.

"Cas, wait!" she called after him and he turned back around waiting for her to speak.

"I never meant to break that seal. I was tricked into it...and the spell, I didn't know that it would take away my other power. I only wanted it to help the Winchesters. You said yourself that I had to watch out for Dean. I didn't know of any other way," she calmly pleaded.

The angel said nothing before disappearing with the small flap of a cloak. But before he did, Carter _swore_ she saw some kind of compassion move through his eyes...


	38. Chapter 37

**So wow, I really have no excuse for the abysmally long wait time between updates other than life kind of struck me hard and fast.**

**This chapter is longer than usual and is actually the finale in this story! However, there will be a mini sequel in the coming weeks and then eventually the real sequel which takes place in season 5 and beyond.**

**So I hope you have enjoyed Through Night and Chaos and look for The Dark of Hell soon!**

* * *

Sunlight streaming in through the blinds cast a shimmering glow on Carter's face, rousing the girl from an alcohol-induced slumber. With a deep intake of breath, she rolled to her side, gathering her pillow to her chest and finding Dean sitting at the edge of his bed, silent and motionless. For a few moments, she quietly observed him knowing full well that he realized she was awake.

"What do we do from here?" she asked in a hushed voice, almost afraid to disturb him.  
"We'll go to Bobby's," he cleared his throat, standing a stuffing a couple things into his duffel, "Get dressed. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

Using her arms as leverage, Carter heaved herself into a sitting position.

"Cas stopped by last night," she told him, tearing the covers off her legs and grabbing a pair of jeans. Dean rounded on her, his face hard.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" he accused and she only frowned at him.  
"You were sleeping when I came back. I'm telling you now," she bit back a little harshly and Dean's face softened as she disappeared into the bathroom.

"What did he have to say?" Dean spoke from outside the bathroom.

The white door swung open, "He threatened me," Carter threw her pajamas into her bag and collected her hair into a pony-tail. Dean curiously watched her, wondering why she didn't seem to be worried.

"You don't seem too concerned about that," he observed, swinging his duffel over his shoulder and grabbing her bag with his free hand. Carter breathed a sigh and met Dean's gaze as she tugged on her Hannah Jacket.

"He was going to tell us something once. Something important. And because of it the angels forced him to Heaven and brainwashed him or something. There's something they're not telling us, Dean," she determined, taking her bag from him and leading the way outside to the Impala.

"There's a butt-load they aren't telling us, Carter," Dean scoffed, tossing his belongings into the trunk.

"No, that's not what I mean," she shook him off, and slammed down the trunk, "Something is wrong, Dean. Very wrong. They don't want us to know something about the Apocalypse, I can _feel_ it," her voice dropped very low, "And the way they keep threatening me? Maybe I was right to use that spell."

Her cautious tone was enough to make Dean warily glance over his shoulder.

"So what are you saying? Cas has completely flipped his lid?" Dean asked, climbing in to the driver's seat.  
"No, but he's struggling. They said something to him to turn him into a dick but last night when I tried to explain myself it was like he understood. He understood but something was holding him back," she frowned, intently gazing out the window as she fell into her own thoughts. Dean thoughtfully nodded, watching her for a second before sending life throughout the black car.

* * *

"Well, you didn't get Sam back but I see you found someone just as valuable," Bobby tried to lighten the mood as Dean and Carter walked into the house.

"Hey, Bobby," Carter gave the old man a hug.  
"Glad you decided to come back," he nodded.  
"Me too," she flashed him a small smile, "I'm going to go toss my stuff upstairs."

The other two hunters watched her hurry up the steps, waiting for her to be out of earshot.

"How the devil did you manage to get her to come back? I thought you two had quite the argument?" Bobby incredulously asked, leading the way to the kitchen.  
"I just asked," Dean shrugged his shoulders, gladly accepting the beer Bobby held out for him.  
"Uh huh," Bobby nodded with a slight smile, insinuating that he thought something was going on between them.  
"Oh come on, Bobby!" Dean protested, picking it up straight away.  
"I didn't say anything," the elder hunter defensively held up his hands.  
"There's nothing going on between me and Carter," Dean determinedly assured, taking a giant swig of his beer.

But even as he said the words, he had to admit that it wasn't _nothing_...otherwise he never would have called her, and she never would have come. Then his mind wandered to the events of the night before and what she asked him. He had been prone to kissing her lately but he didn't think it was because of any feelings for her. At least, at the time he didn't think so...but, now...then again...what if it's just because the connection they both have to hell? Dean chugged almost the entirety of his beer, deciding that—for the time being—it was the latter option because figuring out his feelings for Carter would be more challenging than trying to save the seals.

"So...what happened?" Bobby slowly asked, not even sure he wanted to hear the answer.  
"We've lost him, Bobby," Dean shook his head, his jaw clenched as he didn't really know how else to put it, "He chose a demon over his own family."  
"Looks like that choice was influenced a bit," Bobby nodded to the bruises on Dean's neck and face.

Dean was about to argue back but both hunter's heard Carter thundering down the stairs and were suddenly alert as she raced into the kitchen, panic darkening the features of her face.

"What is it?" Dean asked, instantly concerned.  
"Listen to this," she shoved her phone into his hand, "It's a voicemail from Damon."

Dean curiously looked at her and immediately saw the urgency written all over her face. He pressed the phone to his ear, hearing all kinds of chaos emit from the receiver and it sounded like Damon was driving.

_"Carter, I don't have much time! I'm in Indianapolis! I-I think I've stumbled upon one of those seals! The entire city is in a blackout and demons are crawling everywhere downtown! Oh shit!" _there was a screech of tires and a muffled sound as Damon apparently dropped his phone but then he came back, _"Carter, that's not all! The angels—" _but the line was cut off by a sickening crunch of metal.

Swallowing hard, Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and handed it to Bobby. He looked to Carter and could see the determination set in her face.

"I have to go find him," she asserted.  
"Carter, he's probably—"  
"No!" she shouted, "I have to believe he's still alive! I _need _to find out what he saw."  
"I hate to break it to you but the seal is probably already broken," Bobby chimed in, handing the phone back to its owner.

"No, you're both not listening!" she let out a frustrated sigh, walking around in a circle, "He saw something he wasn't supposed to! About the angels! I bet you any money that it was the angels who were chasing him. First, Cas. Now Damon? They are _hiding_ something from us and I'm going to find out what," she firmly resolved, flying out of the kitchen with Dean hot on her tail.

"Carter, just _wait_ a second!" he latched onto her arm as she returned from upstairs with her bag in hand.  
"Let go of me, Dean. I'm going, one way or another," she paused for a moment.  
"But this is exactly the kind of thing Cas told you _not_ to do," he sternly reminded her, worry edging into his voice.  
"I'm sick of waiting around for the angels, Dean. The apocalypse is coming and so far they've done jack shit to help us. We need to find out just what the hell is going on," she pleaded with him, "What happened to 'angels are all dicks and they can't be trusted?'"

Dean let out a sigh, staring down at her. Everything she said was right, Dean felt it in his gut but he couldn't just let her go alone.

"You _know_ I'm right," she quietly said.  
"I know," he replied in the same hushed tone, "I just don't want you to get hurt."

She slowly nodded, breathing a small sigh of relief as she realized he was going to let her go, "I won't."

"I have to stay and figure out what to do about Sam," Dean found his full voice again.  
"I know, I'm not asking you to come with me."  
"That doesn't mean you need to do everything on your own though, Carter," he warned.  
"I know, I'll call you 'at the first sign of trouble,'" she lightly mocked him with a smirk.  
"I mean it, Barbie," he pointed a finger at her.

"You'll be the first, Lance," she swung her bag over her shoulder before walking out through the front door.

* * *

By the time Carter reached Indy, power had been restored but much of the city was still in shambles. Police tape roped off many buildings, road blocks lined many streets as cleaning crews were attempting to clean up the aftermath of looters. And along a certain stretch of road there were several ambulances and weeping families as stretcher after stretcher were loaded into the white vehicles. Carter shook away her nerves and sped past the scene, seeing no sign of any sort of demon or angel.

Damon's GPS brought Carter to a small location towards the East side of town at an abandoned warehouse. From the sounds on the voicemail, Carter had been expecting some kind of pile-up, only, there was no sign any accident ever occurred. Thoroughly confused, Carter parked and got out of the car to investigate.

Everything was in pristine condition: the grass, the road, even the warehouse. There were no signs of debris, no tire marks on the pavement. No sign of anything really.

But then she spotted it: a tiny black spot embedded in the grass on the opposite side of the road.

Forcing back a small cry, Carter sprinted to the small black iPhone. It was most certainly Damon's. She had seen him pull it out when she gave him her number. Only now the screen was devastatingly cracked and refused to turn on.

"It took you much longer to get here than I expected."

Carter whirled around, feeling the surge of angel power run hot through her body. Zachariah calmly—but smugly—smiled at the girl.

"_Where_ is he?" she snarled.  
"Sorry, who?" the angel begged for clarification.  
"Damon! You pathetic ball of wings! What did you do with him!?" she started charging, unaware of the ball of light emitting from her left hand.

"Careful now," Zachariah held up his hand, stopping her in her tracks, "I wouldn't do anything rash. You're in quite enough trouble as it is!"

Carter finally noticed the warmth in her hand and jumped at the sight of the energy. She didn't even know how she did it, but Zach saw and she nervously looked back up at the angel never missing the sinister glint in his eye as he pressed his fingertips to her temple.

* * *

"You are quite the tough cookie. I underestimated how long you would last," Zach quipped, tossing the battered Carter to the ground. She was using the power her spell gave her, Zach had counted on that because it was the only thing keeping her conscious and keeping her from bleeding to the death as the angels used hellish methods to interrogate the girl.

Tears mixed with blood as Carter tiredly grasped at the white marble of the brilliant room Zachariah teleported her to. She didn't understand why he was doing this. At first, she thought it was punishment for 'turning on the angels...'

"Now," the angel grasped the back of her head by her hair, "Tell me what you remember from hell."  
"I've told you everything!" she cried, feeling her face slam back into the floor.  
"Liar! How are you gaining your power!?" he yelled.  
"I don't know," she wept, shaking her head, "Please, I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Do you know who you are?!" he raged, stomping on her shoulder and hearing her screams echo off the walls as her shoulder dislocated for the fourth time.

"Zachariah."

A new voice entered the room and Zach was distracted from his current task.

"Castiel," the superior angel replied.

Carter agonizingly lifted her head to meet the sympathetic stare of the other angel.

"Can you not see that I am busy?" Zach chided.  
"Lillith is in place to break the final seal," Castiel replied.  
"Good," the other angel happily replied.

"You bastard," Carter coughed, crying out in pain as Zachariah kicked in her ribs.

"Quiet! I'm not finished with you yet!"

Carter once again met Cas' eyes and in that one look begged him to help her.

"Zachariah, the girl does not know anything else," Castiel tore his gaze from the girl.  
"What? You are the one who said she regained her memories from hell," Zachariah shook his head, not understanding. Carter clenched her eyes shut, focusing on trying to heal her broken bones while trying to shake off the feeling of betrayal from Cas.

"Yes, but only some. Certainly not enough to be a threat. I made sure of that when I raised her from the depths of hell," Cas explained.

For a few moments Zachariah thoughtfully tapped his chin considering a few different things mulling about his mind.

"You know what? You're right, Castiel. This _girl_ is no threat to our cause, but _he_ is," Zach noted before disappearing from the room.

Carter let out another cry as Castiel knelt down beside her, trying his best to sit her upright.

"What the hell is going on, Cas?" she painfully looked him dead in the eyes.  
"I'm sorry, Carter," he shook his head, "this was never supposed to happen."  
"Bad things tend to happen when you betray your friends," she bitterly growled, effectively telling him she was pissed he revealed her memories of hell to the angels.

Once again Carter focused on healing her body some more so that she could sit up without being in pain.

"Carter, I'm—"  
"Yeah, yeah. You're sorry. But sometimes Cas, that just doesn't cut it," she determined, using the wall to get to her feet, "Just tell me one thing. Why do the angels want to start the apocalypse?"

Castiel had no answer for her. All he did was press his fingers to her temple transporting her to a room similar to the one she was just in. This time, though, she wasn't alone.

"Dean!" she gasped.  
"Carter?" Dean turned around, gasping when he saw her battered state, "Carter!

Without any sort of hesitation Carter ran straight into his open arms, burying her face deep into the cotton of his shirt willing everything to just go away except the feeling of his strong arms wrapping protectively around her body.

"What the hell did they do to you?" he tilted her head so that she could look at him.  
"It's ok. I'm ok," she shook her head, "Dean, the angels are trying to start the apocalypse."  
"I know, you were right," he brought her head back into his chest, "And they're going to do something to Sam. We have to get to him, Carter."

"How? There's no way out," she glanced around the room finding no kind of door or window.  
"I don't know," Dean began pacing, "I was hoping Cas—"

"Cas is the reason I was an angel's punching bag," Carter hollowly commented.  
"You didn't try punching him, did you?" Dean suddenly asked and Carter gave him a funny look, "It didn't end too well for me."

Despite the situation, Carter couldn't suppress the small smirk from playing her lips but it quickly turned to a frown as the aforementioned angel swooped in and pinned Dean brutally to the wall.

"What th—" Cas held up his hand and Carter was rendered silent and she was forced to watch as he cut his own arm with the enchanted knife, furiously drawing symbols on the wall with the blood.

"Castiel!" Carter clung to Dean as Zachariah appeared again, "Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're—" but in a flash of bright white light Zachariah disappeared.

"He won't be gone long," Castiel finally spoke, "We have to find Sam now."  
"Where is he?" Dean asked.  
"I don't know. But I know who does. We have to stop him, from killing Lillith."  
"What? But that doesn't—" Carter sputtered.  
"Lillith is going to break the final seal," Dean agreed.  
"Lillith _is_ the final seal. She dies, the end begins," Castiel revealed.

Neither Carter nor Dean could say anything else. Everything they had been working up to until this point was to kill Lillith and to find out she was the end of it all...was unimaginable.

"Then how do we find Sam?" Dean grit his teeth.  
"Chuck!" Carter piped up, "He knows, Dean."  
"Precisely," Castiel nodded, immediately pressing his fingers to their foreheads, sending them spinning through time and space to instantly land them in Chuck's den.

The trio caught Chuck speaking on the phone and he was all too shocked to see them.

"Th-this isn't supposed to happen," he uttered, a woman on the other line muttering something, "No, lady this is definitely supposed to happen but I just gotta call you back."

"You gotta help us, Chuck," Carter pleaded, the first to speak, "We need to find Sam."  
"B-but you can't be here. You're not _supposed_ to be here," he nervously mumbled pacing back and forth.  
"The devil is coming, Chuck!" Dean urgently barked, "You need to tell us where Sam is so we can stop it all."

The smarmy writer jumped at the sound of Dean's voice but he nonetheless retrieved a single page from the table, pointing to something so Dean could see.

"St. Mary's? What is that a convent?" Dean wondered aloud.  
"Yeah, but, you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story," the writer repeated.  
"Yeah, well, we're making it up as we go," Cas replied, sounding much like his former self.

The ghost of a smirk formed on Carter's face but was all too quickly erased as the table began to shudder and a white light flared in through the window. What Dean heard as an incessantly loud ringing, Carter began to hear words...none of which sounded friendly.

"Oh no," she began to feel her body tense and her throat close as the archangel violently threatened her.

"What? Aw man, not again!" Chuck yelled.  
"It's the archangel! I'll hold him off, I'll hold them all off!" Castiel shouted, Dean instantly grabbing Carter's hand, "Just stop Sam!"  
"I'm staying with you!" Carter called back, Dean crushing her hand in his.

"No—"  
"This isn't an argument!" she barked back, "I can feel them and I can help! Go, Dean!"

Dean only had a few seconds to gaze upon the girl's face seeing a braveness and determination he had never seen before. But he also caught a glimpse fear in her eyes, not from the archangel but fear that she may never see him again. He had only just wrapped his arms around her when Cas whisked him away in a flash.

A small tear briefly escaped from her eyes before she knocked it away, looking hesitantly at Castiel.

"Stay close to me," he instructed, gently moving a strand of hair from her face and she silently nodded, feeling an almost painful wave of power course through her body as the archangel drew ever nearer.

Carter didn't even see when the archangel appeared, she just knew that suddenly Cas was no longer at her side and she was struggling to keep the angel's blows at bay. There was a blade in her hand for a time but even that was struck down and she was left defenseless and backed into a corner the white light in her hands her only saving grace. All she could see what the brightest light imaginable and nothing more, but it spoke to her.

"Not yet. It is not time."

The light abruptly embedded itself deep within Carter's chest, the girl's screams echoing all around the room before blackness took her.


End file.
